


Snapshot

by QueenCamellia



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Chloè redemption, Chloé Bourgeois Redemption, F/M, Queen Bee, season 2 tho I have HOPE for her ahhhh my baby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-01-26 13:53:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12558824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenCamellia/pseuds/QueenCamellia
Summary: Redemption doesn’t start with a Miraculous. Chloe begins to change, and her classmates don’t know how to take it.[Chloe redemption tho][begins pre-Queen Bee][season 2 tho I have HOPE for her ahhhh my baby]





	1. Beginnings

It started when their photographer was running late for a photo shoot.

Chloe had been waiting impatiently for the man to arrive, tapping her foot repeatedly and gritting her teeth as she adjusted her sunglasses. Where _was_ that stupid photographer? Her father didn’t have _that_ much time to waste on a photoshoot, even if it was for his reelection campaign. They already had all the equipment _set up_ , for Heaven’s sake. It wasn’t like there was an akuma attack going on right now. Hawkmoth had been relatively quiet recently, as numerous reports had pointed out in the past week. Standing by the cameras and intimidated makeup personnel, Chloe waited.

And waited.

_Annnd waited._

“Ugh, that’s it!” Chloe exclaimed, throwing her hands into the air melodramatically and rolling her eyes. Her lips turned downwards into a nasty scowl as she sent the makeup personnel a glare that made them all wince and step backwards. Everyone knew that when Chloe Bourgeois was pissed off, it was best to let the girl cool off by herself. “We don’t have time to wait for this imbecile any longer. Do any of you know how to operate this camera?”

As one, all of them shook their heads fearfully.

Chloe growled, glancing at the clock and muttering, “Useless, all of you.”

Her father looked remarkably calm despite the situation. He had always held the cool countenance of a politician that Chloe had always envied: she, he had always told her, had inherited the fiery temper of her mother. Chloe glanced upwards at the clock again, pursing her lips in irritation. Still, there was no frantic photographer bursting onto the scene.

“Screw this,” Chloe murmured. Pompously, she approached the camera, fiddling with the lens a little. She had attended enough of Adrien’s photoshoots back in the day to gather some semblance of understanding of the professional equipment. “Daddy, I’ll take the pictures.”

_He had a lot of work to do after this, right?_ Chloe recalled overhearing several conversations between her father and his campaign manager about the importance of his upcoming interviews and speech before tonight’s banquet.

Although the makeup personnel looked appalled, her father seemed to understand her underlying message.

“Thank you, Chloe,” her father sent her a smile, and Chloe couldn’t help but puff up with pride at his praise. She waited for him to reach forward and ruffle her hair like he used to ( _"D_ _addy!”_ she would whine afterwards, complaining about how it ruined her perfect hairstyle, but they both knew she loved it anyways), but it never came. He never acted informal anymore, not even with her. It was part of his duty as the mayor of Paris.

Well, at least he didn’t question her competence with cameras, unlike the makeup personnel who were exchanging numerous dubious glances. Chloe began to direct her father into numerous positions, snapping pictures and adjusting the camera every so often. Although they weren’t the _best_ of pictures, she supposed that they would do. And, on the plus side, she was probably taking pictures faster than any of the perfectionist photographers that her father would hire.

She was working herself into a steady rhythm when the doors of the studio slammed open and a colorful man deigning himself as “Monsieur Photo” began screaming at her for stealing his limelight. When he immobilized her with a snap of his camera and dragged her still body towards the rooftop, Chloe wasn’t even surprised anymore.

Playing the role of the distressed damsel in distress (which, in retrospect, she _was_ ), Chloe screeched and made several derogatory comments about his fashion sense. Inwardly, she rolled her eyes as the villain threatened to push her off the roof as a determined superhero duo confronted him. These villains weren’t even _creative_ anymore.

And thus, Chloe was once again attributed to creating another akuma.

 

* * *

 

Change was a slow, slow thing that was hard to notice until it was blatantly shoved in one’s face.

Chloe sneered at Sabrina. “What are you _talking_ about?”

“I mean, you’ve just been a little different lately, Chloe,” Sabrina said nervously, fiddling with her ginger hair awkwardly. She squirmed under her companion’s glare.

“I am _not_ different,” Chloe said firmly. Then, she turned back to stare at the window, idly noting that the leaves looked pretty green today. Maybe she should take a picture.

Sabrina stared at her friend before shrugging and turning around. A week ago, Chloe would’ve started screaming at her for pointing out her behavior.

(Not different, her ass. Sabrina wondered how long it’d take for the rest of their class to notice.)

 

* * *

 

When Madame Bustier told them that the class had to create a creative interpretation of “Sun”, Chloe went home and asked her father to buy her a camera. The next day, when she brought a gold plated camera that must’ve been worth over 10,000 euros to school, her classmates assumed she was trying to show off her wealth once again.

When she asked Adrien to model for her, it only solidified the class’s assumptions. Chloe paid no heed to the whispers and stares she was getting from around the room; she had heard them all before, over and over. Whispers and stares were the norm for her now, both as a mayor’s daughter and the designated “mean girl” of the class.

Yeah, Chloe knew about that, too.

Of _course_ she knew that she was a bitch. Chloe wasn’t an airhead, contrary to what some might assume from her blonde hair and histrionic nature. There just wasn’t any way for her to change. If she acted kind to someone, people wondered what her ulterior motive was. If she ignored everyone completely, people would whisper about how surprised they were that she hadn’t insulted anybody yet. If she acted cruel and mean, _then_ everyone would finally breathe a sigh of relief as if the world had returned to its natural state.

She didn’t do it because she wanted to get close to Adrien.

It was just that...when she heard the word “Sun”, her childhood friend was the first thing to pop into her mind. Adrien _was_ the Sun to her: he was kind, he was warm, and the entire world seemed to bow at his feet. He was just so _Adrien_ , and everyone loved him for that.

In the same way, she was so _Chloe_ , and everyone hated her for that.

If Adrien was the Sun, she reflected, Chloe was probably the moon. A constant reflection that desperately tried to be as bright and warm as the real thing, but always failed.

Adrien, of course, gently turned down her proposition. He was already busy with his normal model photoshoots, schoolwork, and various afterschool activities. Plus, the two of them had grown rather estranged after he entered school. It would’ve been nothing short of _miraculous_ if he had accepted.

Chloe was undeterred. Contrary to her classmates’ beliefs that she would switch to something else or copy off of another of Marinette’s ideas (because that _obviously_ worked out the first time; Chloe wasn’t an _idiot)_ , Chloe still decided to use her camera for the project. Instead, she found herself taking pictures of Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Originally, she had planned to solely take pictures of Ladybug. Ladybug was Chloe’s _idol_ : she was kind, beautiful, brave, and undaunted by the large amount of press interest in her. Chloe wished that she could stay as genuine and strong under the pressure of cameras and questions from the press. But as she religiously dogged after the superheroine’s footsteps, Chloe realized that Ladybug always looked her best around her partner.

Sure, when asked questions by reporters, Ladybug would still flash them a smile before giving an answer. But when the red-clad superheroine talked with her partner, something about her countenance seemed to soften. The same thing, Chloe realized, applied to Chat Noir. The two of them worked together seamlessly as one unit. They possessed a fluidity and understanding that Chloe could only desperately hope to capture with her lenses, much less have in real life with anybody.

Snapping a picture of one of the duo’s signature “Pound it!”s, Chloe approached them. Ladybug had already swung off with her yoyo, but Chat Noir still lingered at the spot for a moment, staring at his partner’s retreating figure.

“Excuse me, Chat Noir?”

The leather-wearing superhero seemed to be in his own world, ignoring her completely. Chloe’s eyebrow twitched in irritation.

“Chat Noir?”

Still no sign of acknowledgment.

“Hey, _you_ ,” Chloe growled, jabbing her finger in the superhero’s chest. This time, it seemed to do the trick. Chat Noir finally managed to rip his gaze away from his partner’s silhouette towards her. Something about the sight of her must’ve startled him completely, for he almost jumped back in surprise.

“Oh, uh...Miss Bourgeois,” he managed to get out, blinking in surprise as he took in the sight of her. No doubt Chloe looked different from how he usually saw her: she had to sneak out of her room tonight to take some night shots of the superhero pair, and in her haste, hadn’t put on any makeup or done her hair into her usual immaculate ponytail. He cleared his throat, steadying himself and adopting that _hero voice_ that he and Ladybug used around civilians. “Is there something I can help you with? I’m afraid my time’s about to run out, so we’ll have to _chat_ real quick. Unless it’s something really important, then I can probably go run and recharge.”

“No need,” Chloe dismissed, her grip on her camera tightening. For once, the blonde found herself at a loss for words. She was talking to a _superhero_. Chloe had talked to both Ladybug and Chat Noir in the past, of course. Considering her track record with akumas, it was a wonder that the two didn’t set up some kind of guard duty over her. But usually whenever she talked with them it was more of the “get down and don’t let them see you!” rather than an actual civilized chat. “I just had a quick question. Is that alright?”

“ _Purrr_ fect,” Chat agreed, sending her a cheeky grin. Chloe tried not to roll her eyes ( _she really did!_ ), but to her horror, she found a small smirk growing on her face. That seemed to throw off the superhero as well, but she barreled on before her courage could falter.

“In school, we have a project where we have to create something about the Sun,” she explained, noting that the superhero didn’t look that surprised. “I’ve been following you and Ladybug for the past three days taking a few shots because I’d like for you two to be my theme, but I figured I should probably ask for permission to use these for my presentation.”

“Pictures?” Chat Noir asked, looking remarkably surprised. She was relieved that his reaction wasn’t an immediate “no”, but found herself a little shocked as Chat adopted a small, contemplative look that he only used around Ladybug. “May I take a look?”

Chloe resisted her first instinct that shouted “ _these are mine, hell no!”_ and instead surrendered her camera to the superhero. With ease that she wouldn’t have expected from the “alley cat”, he opened up her gallery and began studying each photo inquisitively. Chloe stood there uncomfortably, shifting her weight from one foot to the other as she almost _fidgeted._

_Fidgeted!_ Her, Chloe Bourgeois!

She didn’t know why gaining Chat’s approval suddenly gained so much importance to her, but Chloe found herself hoping that he’d approve of the pictures. She had put all of her time, effort, and soul into picking the best shots and tracking them around the city for the past few days. Maybe her hard work would pay off. Unfortunately, Chat’s expression was remarkably blank, giving her no insight into the superhero’s thoughts.

Finally, he held out her camera. Grabbing it, she sent him a questioning frown.

“Your pictures,” Chat said finally, his voice a little soft. “They’re really beautiful.”

And with that one sentence, Chloe felt her mood lift completely, and she found a small grin tugging at her lips before she could stop it. “You really think so?” Chloe blurted out, almost incredulously.

“Yeah, they are,” he confirmed, staring at her almost as if he were seeing her in a new light. “You’re...you’re talented, Miss Bourgeois.”

This time there was no hiding her smile. “Thank you,” she breathed, a truly genuine grin lighting up her expression completely. There was a giddy feeling of _happiness_ bubbling in her chest at the superhero’s words, because even though she would’ve been ecstatic if Ladybug had seen them, his approval was enough to send her over the moon. “I didn’t really know if I could really capture your relationship right, but you two really _are_ the light that keeps Paris going,” she babbled nonsensically, words tumbling out of her mouth one after another. “And I really was going to take pictures of Ladybug but I realized that you and her looked so _right_ together, and really, Paris needs both Ladybug and Chat Noir so I figured I should try to incorporate both of you--”

She was cut off by the sound of laughter.

_Laughter_.

Genuine laughter, not the derisive or forced laughter she usually elicited. Chloe drew back, startled. Slightly concerned, she asked, “Err, Chat Noir…?”

“Sorry,” Chat apologized, his lips still twitching as he regained his composure. “It’s just that...well, I’m glad to see that you’re so passionate about something, Chlo.”

“Chlo?” Chloe echoed confusedly. Only Adrien called her that, so it was slightly strange to hear the nickname from another’s lips.

Chat’s eyes widened and he adopted a guilty look, almost as if he shouldn’t have said that. “Sorry, it just slipped out. I didn’t mean to—”

“No, it’s alright,” Chloe allowed, her lips pursing as she thought of Adrien for a moment. “I was just surprised. There’s only one person who calls me that and...well, we’re not that close anymore.”

If she had been watching him closer, she would’ve seen Chat wince. Unfortunately, Chloe was too focused in her own thoughts to pay much heed to his reaction. “Not close?” Chat asked gently.

“He was my best friend, but recently he’s gotten new friends that he likes more,” Chloe explained shortly. “Not that I blame him. They...they _are_ nicer than me, but sometimes I wish...”

She had no idea why she was spilling her feelings to Chat. Maybe it was because nobody else ever asked her? “Sometimes I wish that we could still hang out,” Chloe finished somberly. There was a moment of awkward silence. Then, the blonde shook herself out of her melancholic attitude. “But that doesn’t matter anyways,” she said defiantly, tilting her head and daring him to say otherwise. “Can I use those pictures?”

“Of course,” Chat’s voice was more subdued now, too. “Ladybug and I would be honored.”

“Thank you,” she said stiffly. Chloe nodded, turning around and intending to head home. She had only walked a few steps before Chat’s hesitant voice called after her.

“You know, maybe you should just talk to him.”

She turned around, raising an eyebrow inquisitively.

“He might not realize how you’re feeling,” Chat explained, staring at her with some kind of sad emotion she couldn’t recognize. “I’m sure if you explain how much you miss him, he’ll talk to you more.”

“Sorry, but things don’t work like that,” she snorted derisively. As if it would be that easy.

“Just...try. And if things don’t work out, well...you can always talk to me,” Chat offered, a tiny grin sneaking on his face. There was still something sad about his grin, and Chloe couldn’t figure out why she _knew_ something was off. Maybe it was because he was like Adrien in some ways; after all, beneath his bravado Chat Noir still was a regular teenager.

“Okay,” Chloe said finally, sending him a tentative smile. “I’d...I’d like that.”

He returned his smile with ease that made her jealous, then glanced at his ring and cursed. “Gotta go, _cat_ ch you later!”

And Chloe ( _Chloe Bourgeois_!) couldn’t help but snicker and wave as the superhero ran off on the rooftops.


	2. Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slow, painful progress.

“Hey, Chloe.”

“Chloe.”

“Chloe…”

“ _Chloe Bourgeois_.”

Chloe blinked in surprise for a moment, unsure if she heard right. Then, she slowly lifted her gaze from her camera to stare at Adrien Agreste. The model was standing in front of her desk with a pensive expression on his face. “Adrikins,” she acknowledged. “Something the matter?”

She was currently trying to pick between two pictures she had taken of Ladybug and Chat Noir mid-battle. Both of the photos were nice, but it’d be slightly repetitive to have too many of the same thing. Chloe had honestly been so invested in her photos that she had totally missed Adrien’s numerous attempts to catch her attention.

Adrien paused for a moment, seemingly at a loss for words. Chloe could feel the weight of the entire class’s eyes upon them. “You okay?”

“... _yeeees?_ ” Chloe drew out questioningly. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Is that all?”

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Nino, Marinette, and Alya bristling, ready to stomp over in Adrien’s defense. Adrien saw his friends’ movements as well; he paused for a moment before sending them a disarming smile. The action immediately made all three of his friends relax. Chloe idly wished her smile had such an effect on...well, _anyone_.

“You’ve been carrying that camera around recently. What topic did you choose for the project?” Adrien wheedled.

Chloe was about to dismiss him with an upturned nose and snarky “none of your business”, but paused. Chat’s words echoed in her head involuntarily.

She had to at least... _try,_ right _?_

Chloe turned around to face her childhood friend eye to eye, reminding herself to not come across as too arrogant. “Chat Noir and Ladybug,” Chloe answered, slowly and deliberately.

She heard Alix scoff in the background. “ _Creative._ ”

Adrien, to Chloe’s mounting surprise, sent his classmate a glare before turning back to her. “I think that’s a pretty cool topic,” he said loudly, silencing any lingering whispers in the classroom. “May I see your pictures?”

Chloe contemplated the notion before shrugging. “You’ll see them during my presentation, anyways,” she murmured, handing her camera over. A sense of deja vu rushed over her as the blonde took the camera from her with a goofy grin. _This is Adrien,_ she told herself firmly, refusing to let herself slip into insanity. _Not Chat Noir._

“Did you get Ladybug’s permission?” Marinette’s voice rang in the classroom, not exactly accusatory but not exactly welcoming, either. Regardless, Chloe scowled at her insinuation. She crossed her arms over her chest defensively.

“I asked Chat Noir last night,” Chloe sniffed, eyes still steadily trained on her camera in Adrien’s hands. “And as much as I know you love Ladybug, I’d like to have that back, Adrikins.”

Adrien nearly dropped her camera. With a shriek, Chloe’s hands reached out towards the equipment, but Adrien was faster. Hands darting out agilely and grabbing the expensive device before it could hit the ground, he straightened and smiled at her sheepishly. “Here,” he offered, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry about that.”

Then, more quietly, he added, “They’re nice, Chloe.”

A feeling of joy buoyed in her chest before Chloe promptly squashed it. No use in getting her hopes up.

She snatched the camera from his hands, examining it for any scratches despite physically seeing her childhood friend catch the device midair. Her inspection revealed no damage whatsoever, to her immense relief.  “Thanks,” she said shortly, nodding and sitting down. Adrien lingered awkwardly for a second before turning back to head back to his seat.

It took her several minutes before Chloe realized that she had gotten through a civilized conversation with Adrien for what seemed like forever. Unintentionally, she found herself _happy_ , her eyes twinkling with a tiny spark of _something_ as she observed Madame Bustier explain redox equations.

This...this was a _start_ , wasn’t it?

* * *

 

“That was _weird_ ,” Alya said immediately after the bell rang and class was over. Chloe already was out of the classroom, having left with her trusty camera as soon as the bell rang.

“No kidding,” Marinette agreed, biting her lip. “Chloe didn’t insult _anyone_ today, even when Sabrina almost ruined their science experiment.” Said blonde had simply rolled her eyes and cleaned up the mess with a scowl, and although her mood was significantly less pleasant after the incident...well, Chloe didn’t blow up. At all.

It was making Marinette slightly paranoid. Thanks to whatever that was lightening Chloe’s moody snappiness, there had been less akumas recently. In fact, now that Marinette thought about it, the last akuma that Chloe had caused was that photographer from a week ago.

“Hey Alya, Marinette,” Nino started, approaching them with an arm slung around Adrien’s shoulders. Marinette felt her face begin to heat up just by the presence of her crush. “We were thinking about heading to a cafe right now since one of Adrien’s photoshoots just got cancelled. You two ladies care to join us?”

“Ah, sweet! We’ll totally tag along. _Right_ , girl?” Alya nudged Marinette non-too-subtly. Marinette sent her friend a warning glare before beaming at the two boys.

“Yeah! Uh, go we’ll you with...I mean, we’ll you go with...err, I mean, we’ll with you go.” _Please let the earth swallow me whole_ , Marinette prayed to herself as her rambling became increasingly nonsensical. “Uh, you meant what I know. I mean, you know what I meant…?” She laughed sheepishly, cheeks burning from embarrassment.

“Cool,” Adrien said, beaming. Somehow, he had managed to understand her gibberish. Bless his perfect, kind soul. “Nino’s been telling me about some new cafe that’s opened up near your family’s bakery recently. I’m sure you’ve heard about it already. Have you gone there yet, Marinette?”

“Yes! I mean, no,” Marinette blurted out. Hurriedly, she clarified, “Yeah, I know of it. I haven’t gone there yet, though.”

“Cool, cool,” Nino ushered his blonde friend outside of the classroom. He called over his shoulder towards the girls, “Hurry up, let’s get going!”

“Good job, Mari. Keep this up and you might get out three sentences without stuttering,” Alya snickered, barely suppressing a wince as Marinette jabbed her elbow into her friend’s side.

“Oh, shut up,” she muttered, rolling her eyes. The two exchanged glances before bursting into a fit of giggles. Fighting back her laughter and adopting a determined expression, she turned to Alya. “Let’s hurry to the front before they think we’ve ditched them.”

“Roger that.” Alya saluted.

* * *

 

They had _just_ arrived at the cafe when people began screaming.

Making a quick excuse, Marinette dashed away from the scene and locked herself in the bathroom. She inwardly cursed her luck; being Ladybug felt more unlucky than lucky considering the amount of akuma incidents interrupting her everyday life.

But now wasn’t the time to complain about missing time with Adrien. Marinette...no, _Ladybug_ had a duty to Paris that she had to complete. “Tikki, transform me!”

* * *

 

“ _Akuma!_ Run away!”

“I’m not even surprised anymore,” Chloe muttered under her breath, ignoring the wave of panicked people running away from the self proclaimed food connoisseur. Trailing after Paris’s superhero duo and being threatened by so many akumas had hardened Chloe’s resolve. Considering how the majority of akumas weren’t lethal, she wasn’t too concerned about her wellbeing. The fact that the akuma threatened to send people to better restaurants solidified her resolve to stay and watch the battle. (Oh, the _horror_  . Being sent to five star restaurants? Chloe would rather _die_. If Hawkmoth wanted to win, he’d have to seriously step up his game.)

Idly, she prepared her camera for the inevitable appearance of Chat Noir and Ladybug. “I wonder how long it’ll take them this time…”

“Miss Bourgeois, who is that?” Chat Noir suddenly jumped down from the rooftops. Chloe hardly blinked at his appearance, although she felt slightly surprised at how quickly he had arrived to the scene. Maybe he lived close by?

“A self proclaimed food connoisseur who thinks that this cafe ripped off some dish from the Congo,” she answered, snapping a picture of the black clad superhero. Casually, she sipped her strawberry smoothie and ignored the tables sent flying over her head.

There was a flash of red and then Chloe found herself beside Paris’s resident superheroine. “Do you have any idea of where the akuma might be?” It seemed as if Ladybug learned from the Antibug incident. Chloe blinked, observing the akuma victim for a moment. Earlier, he had been remarkably attached to his notebook which he used to write notes for his critiques. A quick scan of the akuma victim revealed the slick black book carefully guarded in his breast pocket.

“Try his notebook,” she offered, pointing.

Ladybug scrutinized her expression for a moment. Chloe had no idea what the female superhero saw in her, but there must’ve been _something_ , for the pigtailed girl nodded firmly before launching her yoyo towards the akuma.

Taking cover under the table, Chloe took another picture.

* * *

 

“You okay?”

No response.

“Oi.”

No response.

Her nostrils flared. “ _Hey_ , I'm talking to you, tomato-head.”

At the insult, Nathanael _finally_ looked up. Immediately recognizing the blonde haired, ponytailed girl in front of him, he straightened his posture and stammered, “Ch-Chloe!”

“Na-Nathanael!” Chloe mimicked, rolling her eyes. “My name is Chloe. _Chlo-ee._ Not _Ch-Chloe_.”

Nathanael wisely changed the subject. “Do you need something, Chloe?”

Chloe huffed at the wary note in his voice, but couldn’t bring herself to get mad at him for suspecting something malevolent from her. After all, she _did_ approach him with ulterior motives. “School’s out, and everyone’s already left,” she pointed out. Chloe herself would’ve already left the classroom had it not been for her needing to talk with said redhead. “You should leave the classroom soon.”

“Ah, you’re right.” Nathanael blinked, as if he hadn’t noticed all of their classmates exiting the class. “Is that all?”

“You’re an artist,” Chloe stated firmly. Idly, her fingers fiddled with the straps hanging over her neck. She had gotten used to the camera’s weight by now, but playing with the straps had become a nervous habit.

“...yes?” The redhead’s confused expression was warranted; saying that Nathanael was an artist was like saying grass was green or the sky was blue. Nevertheless, Chloe remained undeterred, her stance and confidence showing no sign of wavering as she set down her laptop in front of him.

“Do you know how to use this program?”

Nathanael paused, azure eyes peering curiously at the screen. His eyes lit up in recognition at the photo-editing software; Chloe was unsurprised. Despite his many hand-drawn doodles in class, Nathanael definitely seemed like the kind of person to draw digitally as well. “I do,” he answered cautiously. His wariness was starting to irritate the blonde; she wasn’t a goddamn _bear_ or some kind of walking disaster that needed a _warning_ label, for pity’s sake! That was _Marinette_.

“I need you to teach me to use it,” Chloe demanded. “I want to use it for the project.”

Finally, realization dawned in Nathanael’s eyes as he realized why she approached him. “There are tutorials online, you know,” he said uncomfortably, scooching further back in his seat as Chloe’s gaze (read: _glare_ ) intensified. “I’m sure you could look up a few videos or play around with it yourself. You’d probably do better without anyone’s help, right?”

He was baiting her, Chloe realized. Her eyebrows narrowed. She was _not_ going to be deterred that easily. “I tried that already,” she explained through gritted teeth. “The tutorials are stupid, I can barely understand the French they’re speaking, and they take _forever_ to get to the point. I just need a basic runthrough of its functions, not all of the fancy special effects. The pictures should speak for themselves.”

Nathanael stared at her, looking completely mystified.

Chloe, seeing his confused look, groaned and whipped around. “Whatever, I should’ve known that you wouldn’t help,” she grumbled. “I’ll go figure it out _myself_ , then.”

“Why don’t you just...ask somebody your father knows to help you?” Nathanael’s meek suggestion made her stop in her tracks.

Chloe turned her head around ever so slightly and scoffed, eyes stormy. “And have some busybody who wants to impress my father take over _my_ project? Thanks, but no thanks.”

Chloe chose to be oblivious sometimes. That didn’t mean she was an idiot.

And with that, Chloe stalked off with the grace of a tempest, leaving a bemused Nathanael in her wake.

* * *

 

Three more weeks until they had to present their projects. Chloe groaned, whipping out her mirror and checking her makeup. Her chaffeur remained silent, probably waiting for whatever torrent of complaints she’d hurl his way once again. “Jean Claude, can you believe what I’m doing?” Chloe bemoaned. “Look at me. _Look_ at me.”

“I’m afraid I can not, mademoiselle. I must keep my eyes on the road to ensure your safety. I’m sure you look fine, though,” he added the placating phrase as an afterthought.

“I’ve been running around the city for the past week and a half chasing Ladybug and Chat Noir,” Chloe realized. “I’ve been sneaking out of the hotel for the past three nights, running late to Papa’s photoshoots, and chatting up with superheroes all for a _school_ assignment that I probably will pass anyways, especially since I’m the mayor’s daughter. What am I doing?”

“If I am to be frank, mademoiselle…”

“Speak,” Chloe snapped. “Tell me how pathetic I am. Tell me how I’m chasing after superheroes like some ridiculous madman.”

“No, mademoiselle,” and here he paused. “You are chasing your dreams.”

_Chasing her...dreams?_

Chloe snorted dismissively. “I never took you to be so sentimental.”

“You are that way too, are you not?” She could almost feel his blinding smile through his words alone. “I can always bring out M. Cuddles―”

“One more word, and I swear, Jean Claude―”

Chloe’s complaint was cut off by the sound of an explosion. She only had time to curse before the door to the car was ripped off and a neon-green-clad akuma proclaimed something about taking over the world.

To Chloe, being kidnapped was starting to become a running gag.

* * *

 

“Don’t worry, Miss Bourgeois, I have you,” Chat assured her, adjusting his hold around her waist and tightening his grip on his baton. He set her down on the ground before glancing upwards, an awed and almost dreamy expression arising on his face as he watched his partner pull off another _“Miraculous Ladybug!”_

“You really love her, don’t you?” Chloe observed.

Chat paused, as if he was struggling to find the proper words to describe his admiration for the superheroine. Finally, he said simply, “She’s my world.”

And that was enough explanation.

They basked in a moment of amiable silence before Chloe blurted out, “I want to learn how to fight.”

That was _definitely_ not the reply he was expecting. “Y-you... _what_?” Chat stammered, almost stumbling over his own baton. Chloe snickered at his reaction, but pulled herself together enough to latch him with a firm stare.

“I’m already being chased by akumas all day. It’s only a matter of time before Papillon gets his act together and stops sending... _those_.” Chloe gestured vaguely to the akuma victim in disgust. “I need to be able to defend myself.”

Chat paused and nodded. “Fair enough…” His tone was questioning.

“You and Ladybug obviously learned your moves _somewhere_ , I presume,” Chloe clarified, crossing her arms over her chest. “I was wondering if you had a recommendation.”

“Ah, I fence,” Chat explained, glancing at his rapidly approaching partner. “But I don’t know about Ladybug.” Turning to his partner, he grinned and held out a fist. “Pound it?”

“Pound it,” the red-clad superheroine confirmed, bumping fists with him.

“Miss Bourgeois has a question for you,” Chat informed pleasantly. Ladybug blinked, startled, before facing the blonde.

“Do you need something?”

Before she could lose her fake bravado, Chloe blurted out, “Where’d you learn to move like that?”

“Like...what?”

Chloe gave the superheroine the most unbelieving stare she could possibly give. “Like _this_ ,” she gestured at the heroine’s body. “As your number one fan, I’ve been tracking you since day one. Even though you kind of _sucked_ at first, you still were able to swing that yoyo around everywhere. Do you take self-defense classes?”

Ladybug paused. “I...uh, actually don’t,” she admitted.

“Do you fence?”

“...no…”

“Do you do _any_ sports?” Now, even Chat was staring at her in disbelief.

“Not really?” Ladybug laughed sheepishly. “But I loved using yoyos since I was younger, so―” She paused at the sound of her miraculous beeping, suddenly aware of the situation and hardening. “Sorry, gotta go. I apologize for not being able to help you, Miss Bourgeois.”

Chloe shrugged and waved off her apology, mind still reeling from the fact that _Ladybug_ , despite her quick reflexes and brilliant mind, didn’t take _any_ self defense lessons. “Maybe you should look into lessons, too,” Chloe replied, her voice somewhat condescending but message clear. “I doubt akumas are always going to be this easy.”

Ladybug gave her a measured look before swinging off. “I’ll look into it. Thanks, Miss Bourgeois.”

Chat, who had been silent for most of the conversation, cursed when beeping began emanating from his body. “Sorry, cat’s gotta run. _Cat_ ch you later!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone! Woah, I was absolutely amazed by the response this fic got. I'm glad that we all love Chloe, too (or at least her potential). :)
> 
> Several suggestions have been taken into consideration and probably will show up sometime! Feel free to drop your own as well.
> 
> I'm still new to Ao3, so pardon me for sounding err noob-ish ahaha. Is there a way for me to reply to comments without adding to the review count? ^^;; Thank you, wise masters.
> 
> Love all you dorks!


	3. moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the presentation + competent Chloe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hnnnnnng I love competent Chloe  
> finals is this week  
> ive had four hours of sleep every night help (don't take all ap and ib classes i swear you'll die)  
> it's not really revised and i might regret this in the (later) morning

“Oh my _god_ , my _nails!_ ”

Chloe’s shrill shriek probably could have been heard in the high heavens. Those near her winced and inched away from the blonde. Adrien, to his credit, just shrunk away from his friend in an act of self preservation.

“Adrikins, I can’t do this anymore,” Chloe sobbed dramatically, latching onto her friend’s arm. “No more of this...this... _i_ _nhumane torture._ ”

“It’s just  _fencing_ , Chloe,” Adrien said patiently, patting her arm and gently prying off her grip. “I know that it’s hard at first, but I know that you’ll improve with time and practice.”

The only reason she was even attempting fencing was because she missed her best friend. Chloe knew that taking some kind of self-defense lesson would probably benefit her more when it came to fending off akumas, but this was the _perfect_ excuse for her to spend more time with Adrien. The only problem was that she wasn’t counting on fencing being so _hard_ and time consuming.

It was just dancing around with a flimsy metal stick, for heaven’s sake! Why was she finding this so  _hard?_

She only spoke with Adrien for a total of five sentences because the blonde had been consumed in an intensive workout she didn’t dare interrupt for the past half hour.

“I’m _horrendous_ at this,” Chloe proclaimed, groaning and resisting the urge to throw herself on the floor. Alas, as the mayor’s daughter, she had to keep up her reputation. The last thing her father would want was to see the news headline “ _CHLOE BOURGEOIS, A TODDLER AT HEART?”_ the next day at breakfast accompanied with a photo of her throwing a tantrum on the floor.

“You’re a novice, that’s to be expected. Now, up,” a stern voice demanded.

Chloe groaned, bemoaning, “But Monsieur D’Argencourt…”

“I have little respect for those who expect things to be handed to them on a silver platter, Miss Bourgeois. Had it not been for Adrien’s insistence, I would not have accepted you in these halls at all, from what I know of your father.” Armand D’Argencourt stared impassively at her. Tossing her helmet she had previously discarded back to her, he repeated, “Up.”

“C’mon, Chlo, you can do it,” Adrien whispered encouragingly. “Just try.” Chloe tried not to throw her shoe at him for his blinding optimism. She _was_ trying, for heaven’s sake! What was he expecting her to do, collapse in exhaustion? Nope, not her: she was Chloe Bourgeois. Chloe Bourgeois did not work herself to exhaustion, even for self defense. She’d train herself and walk out of the doors in _style_ , thank you very much.

“Stupid superheroes, stupid akumas, stupid _everything_ ,” Chloe muttered, dusting herself off as she caught the helmet with surprising ease. Maybe the make-believe superhero sessions with Sabrina _were_ worth something after all. Raising her voice so Adrien could hear, she said loudly, “You’re buying me a strawberry parfait and smoothie later.”

“Alright,” Adrien accepted, too accustomed to his childhood friend’s demands to even protest. “Only if you tell me about how your project’s going.”

“Deal.” And, with that, Chloe awkwardly lowered herself into the fencing stance that Adrien guided her into an hour before. Turning to her unamused fencing instructor, she winced. “...en garde?”

* * *

 

“Miss Bourgeois.”

Chloe blinked, looking up from her smoothie. She had _honestly,_ good to honestly attempted not to offend anyone for the past week. She was too busy attempting to figure out the photo-editing program anyways, and since she already had all the pictures she wanted, she didn’t go actively searching for akuma attacks as often as before.

(Admittedly, Chloe would go to the attacks sometimes just to see them in action. Occasionally, Chat would drop by and talk with her for a few minutes before hurrying off. God, why didn’t she ever notice him? Had she been that blinded by Ladybug’s brilliance that she hadn’t realized the effectiveness of their combination?)

“Ladybug,” she said, immediately scrambling out of her chair. The akuma had just been purified, so she thought that she could resume her usual relaxation at the cafe. “Do you need something?”

“Not exactly…” Ladybug bit her lip, then sighed. In a lowered voice, she murmured, “I was thinking about what you and Chat were talking about before. I just wanted to let you know that I started taking some more extensive training, and that I’d like to...to...thank you for pointing that out.”

“I...uh...um…”

In Chloe’s defense, she was _not_ prepared to have one of Paris’s most popular icons _thank_ her. Hell, she was hardly thanked by her _classmates_ (as if they had a reason for gratitude, anyways), much less a superheroine. “You’re welcome?”

“No, I mean it,” Ladybug insisted. “You’re right: we shouldn’t grow complacent just because we think we have the upper hand. We need to get stronger so we can finish this before Hawkmoth does, and I think I forgot that after harmless akuma attacks became part of my usual routine.”

“I...yeah...good...cool.” Chloe inwardly bemoaned her ineptitude at speaking. Her fingers suddenly itched for her camera, and she impulsively pulled it out of her bag. “Can I take a picture of you?”

“I...what?”

“A personal picture. Like, not without your mask of course,” Chloe clarified, “but sometimes it’s nice to see the normal and human side of our heroes. We forget sometimes that you’re...real.”

“I…” Now, it was Ladybug’s turn to look awkward, but she nodded. “Sure, but I”ll have to leave in two minutes.”

“I’ll make it quick,” Chloe promised, and just like that, she snapped the shutter.

“I...what?”

“Better for you not to have time to prepare,” Chloe dismissed. “I wanted the natural you, not the Ladybug that poses for the cameras.”

“I see…” Ladybug watched her closely, then nodded. “Good afternoon, Miss Bourgeois.”

“And the same to you. Thanks,” she added as an afterthought.

“Anytime.”

Chloe was surprised to hear a note of genuine kindness leak into the normally antipathetic superhero.

 

* * *

 

“Chloe?”

Chloe shrieked, nearly toppling over her chair. Scrambling to grab her photos scattered on the floor, the blonde glanced upwards to glare at the offender who caused her to make such a mess. Then, she paused, lips pursed. “Nathanael? What do _you_ want?”

“Well…” Nathanael bent down to pick up some of the fallen photos, handing them to her. She snatched them before the redhead could gain the courage to look at them.

The scene was highly reminiscent of their previous meeting: it was after school, the empty classroom quiet and peaceful. She had been caught up in examining her pictures; after talking with the redhead, Chloe had resolved to do her photo-editing herself. After all, Chloe Bourgeois was a confident and headstrong individual: surely she could figure out a photo-editing software by herself!

As evident by the _shit_ that used to be her pictures... _no,_ Chloe Bourgeois could not figure out how to use a photo-editing software.

“ _Well_?” Chloe echoed, propping her hand on her hip and raising an eyebrow at her classmate. She had well-mastered the pose after years and years in front of cameras and the paparazzi: confidence radiated off her in waves, and there was nothing about her stance indicating that she was desperate. There was nothing, nothing at all.

“Doyoustillneedhelp?” Nathanael blurted out, his face almost as scarlet as his hair and demeanor unbearably uncomfortable. He spoke so quickly that Chloe couldn’t make out his words.

“Sorry... _what_?” To her displeasure, a little more derision leaked into her voice than originally intended. Nathanael winced, but didn’t draw back.

“Do you still need help?” Nathanael repeated slowly, wringing his hands awkwardly. “I’ve been thinking, and even though we haven’t had the best past, you haven’t done anything to me in particular for awhile. And my schedule’s free right now, plus this is only for this project, right? It’s always nice to help others if you can...even if the person asking is Chloe Bourgeois.” The last sentence was a quiet mutter, probably meant for himself rather than for her. Unfortunately enough, Chloe had relatively good hearing.

She blinked. Then blinked again. Then, crossing the distance between them, asked, “You’re not joking with me, right?”

“No?” His answer came out as more of a questioning squeak.

Her face, which previously resembled a brewing storm cloud, brightened. “Cool, because I _do_ need help.”

“Oh, I see, that’s fine…” he trailed off, then paused. “Wait...you do?”

“Take a look at them yourself.” She literally shoved the pile of photos at him, then handed the original photos for comparison. Grudgingly, she admitted, “I need help. _Lots_ of help.”

Nathanael glanced at the photos. A small, _tiny_ grin snuck on his lips. “These could use a little work,” he admitted kindly. “They’re...unfinished works of art.”

Chloe rolled her eyes at his euphemism. “They’re shit.”

It almost sounded as if a snicker escaped from his lips, but the moment passed too quickly for Chloe to tell and Nathanael already shut up, looking horrified at himself. “When would you like to talk about these?”

“Name your time.”

“...pardon?”

“Name your time,” Chloe demanded. “I’m fine with anything, really, as long as it doesn’t clash with my fencing lessons.”

“You _fence_?”

“As of three days ago, I do.”

Nathanael paused, studying her as if she were some kind of new specimen. Actually, maybe that description fit Max more. The redhead stared at her more as if she was a painting hanging on a museum wall that he couldn’t quite decipher the meaning of.

“Got a problem with me fencing?” She challenged, crossing her arms over her chest and scowling at him.

“No, I don’t…” Nathanael paused. “It’s just that...well, you’re kind of _different._ ”

“I’m _always_ fabulous, if that’s what you mean,” Chloe sniffed, flipping her hair and snatching her bag. “Anyways, I gotta go. I’m sure you know how to contact me if you need to, just send me a time and place.”

 

* * *

 

“And the look on his _face!”_

“For God’s sake, Adrikins, if you keep snickering about that, I swear I’ll—”

“But you _threw your helmet at him!_ In his face!”

“Well, he deserved it. He’s only been fencing for half a year; why does _he_ get to act all entitled and laze around while I slave under the devil?”

“Monsieur D’Argencourt is _not_ a devil, Chloe.”

“Did you _see_ him smirk when he made me do more sprints? _Sprints!_ Why the hell do I need to sprint to fence?”

“Agility. Plus it’s nice to be able to run face should the situation arise? Especially considering akumas have a special penchant for going after you?”

“Don’t you _dare_ act sassy with me, Adrien Agreste.”

 

* * *

 

“So you do this first?”

“No, that makes it _darker_. You want it _lighter_ here so it accentuates the lighting. And try adjusting the contrast a little.”

“What about this?”

“Try changing the blending mode.”

“The _what?”_

“...”

“Ugh, don’t _you_ start too. Stop it with the eyeroll, tomato head, and start showing me whatever the hell a ‘blending mode’ is.”

 

* * *

 

“A toast, to the future of French fencing!”

“Stop being dramatic, Adrikins.”

“Stop being a downer, Chlo. You just won your first match!”

“After _two weeks._ ”

“Some don’t win until at least a month. C’mon, let’s toast!”

“We’re drinking strawberry _smoothies_ , Adrien.”

“...”

“Ugh, fine. Just stop with the puppy-dog eyes.”

 

* * *

 

“Holy shit.”

“Holy shit is...surprisingly accurate.”

“How did they turn from _this_ to...to... _this_?”

“Magic. Also known as photo-editing.”

“You’re...you’re actually pretty good at this, tomato-head.”

“...”

“...”

“...no, Chloe. I think that...well, this was all you.”

 

* * *

 

“Good morning, class. I assume that you all have prepared your presentation for your creative arts project, correct?”

The class murmured their general agreement. Some, like Rose, looked nervous as they held onto their bright (tacky) and eye-catching (gaudy) posters. Others, namely Alya and Nino, were anxiously searching for their missing friends. Marinette and Adrien, as per usual, hadn’t arrived to class on time. Chloe was neither nervous nor anxious about Adrien’s whereabouts: he’d get to class soon.

Instead, she chose to observe Sabrina’s five-page paper before staring out of the window. Years of handling the press (and, technically, her many years as class president in the past) had largely curbed any of her public speaking concerns, if she ever had any. Chloe had always been an outspoken girl.

Each presentation passed by rather dully, her classmates’ lackluster performances clearly displaying their lack of enthusiasm for the topic. She was sure that if they immersed themselves into the topic, her classmates would create rather ingenious or startling unique projects. But _Sun_ , of all things, was a broad and rather dull topic to most of them.

Sometime during Juleka’s presentation rather enthusiastic project on horror movies (undoubtedly inspired by the Horrificator incident, although Chloe wondered how exactly horror movies equated to ‘Sun’), Adrien had stumbled into the classroom with Marinette on his heels, both of them spouting ridiculous excuses until Madame Bustier took pity on them and let them sit down with a stern lecture.

_They could at least_ try _to own up to sleeping in_. Chloe rolled her eyes, but surprisingly couldn’t find real malice behind her thoughts. It was more of an exasperated sigh than an actual complaint. She turned away and stared out of the window again, staring at the clouds contemplatively.

Sometimes, Chloe envied the clouds. They morphed and shifted and _moved_ so quickly, without any restraints. She vaguely recalled pretending superheroes with Adrien when she was little: they liked playing in an inflatable castle, leading to several incidents where Chloe injured herself in attempting to ‘fly’. Their parents had banned playing superheroes soon enough, but it was fun while it lasted. ( _“Hah, I can fly! That means I’m your queen, Adrikins.” “And I’ll be your knight, my lady!”_ )

Huh, maybe _that_ was why she liked playing superheroes with Sabrina so much. Sabrina wasn’t the best person to act as a superhero, but it had been _fun_ , despite the humiliation of the Antibug incident.

“Nathanael, you’re next.”

Chloe pulled her gaze away from the window and watched as the redhead cringed under everyone’s attention before pulling himself to his feet. She nodded to him in grudging respect as he passed; like it or not, he had helped her a lot with her photos, and his help was the only reason why she was proud enough of them to present them to the class.

Nathanael cleared his throat. “I chose to make an abstract painting of the Sun.”

In spite of herself, she rose an eyebrow. Nathanael had always been one for concrete drawings; once, when they had been invested in their photo-editing program, he had ranted to Chloe about the lack of creativity in modern art with surprising vigor. Chloe had retorted with a few snappish comebacks like “ _everything_ is art, dumbass” and “you told me yourself: art is _expression of feelings_ , not just the Mona Lisa”. He had disagreed at the time, but appeared thoughtful the meetings following their debate.

And here he was, standing there with probably the most abstract painting he’d ever created, squeezing his eyes shut and shoving it in front of him for the whole class to view.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t just yellow.

There was yellow, sure, but splashed upon the canvass were bursts of orange and red. Several brown spots dotted a streak of bright lime _green_. Blots of teal blue and light purple littered the canvass, completed with a flourish of scarlet. The most striking thing about the painting was that...well, even though there was plenty of _color_ there, the majority of it was covered in a dark, encroaching black. Only the center of the painting was colored at all.

All in all, it probably wasn’t what anyone expected.

“Your interpretation, Nathanael?” Madame Bustier’s voice remained remarkably stoic. Chloe could _feel_ their classmates’ confusion and maybe even mocking amusement, probably something along the lines of “did he put that together today?”

Chloe waited.

“We’ve established thus far that the Sun is light. That its light can be gentle,” he gestured to the pastel colors. Then, he gestured to the brighter colors. “To scorching and dangerous.”

“And the black?” Chloe couldn’t help but blurt out, feeling their class’s eyes on her.

And then, Nathanael gave her a tiny smile and tilted his head, as if he was waiting for that question. “Well, what is daytime without nighttime? Light without darkness? Hope without despair?”

The class remained silent.

“And...most importantly, what is hope? Hope isn’t just praying for the best: it’s _believing_ that there’s light at the end of the tunnel, even when the Sun isn’t in sight. In reality, the Sun is always there at the end of the tunnel. It just takes _us_ having the courage to step into the light.”

And, with that rather dramatic note, Nathanael bowed and returned to his seat. She never knew he had it in him.

It left the class in complete silence for a long moment. Then, Chloe began clapping.

The rest of the class quickly joined in.

And so the presentations went on.

 

* * *

 

 

Marinette presented a bright, golden sundress that probably could’ve won several awards if she had used better material. Alya had several videos of sunrises and sunsets. Nino had created a bright, bubbly song.

Then, Adrien showed off his handmade scrapbook with photos of his friends. To Chloe’s surmounting surprise, it wasn’t just him, Alya, Marinette, and Nino: there was _Chloe_.

Six years-old Chloe and Adrien, giggling from their perch on a tree as their caretakers looked on, horrified.

Baby Chloe and Adrien, dressed in gaudy yellow and green, toddling around the Agreste mansion.

Chloe and Adrien, taking a carefree selfie with strawberry smoothies in hand, sweat still dripping down their foreheads from fencing.

Every single photo he presented had _meaning_ , had life.

“They’re my Sun,” Adrien said simply, then returned to his seat.

Chloe swallowed, suddenly finding it a bit hard to breathe, and sent Adrien the most genuine smile she’d ever allow in the classroom. Adrien returned it with a beam of his own.

“Miss Bourgeois?”

Chloe swallowed, stood up, and turned on the projector. “I chose to put together a photo collection for my project,” she explained, not allowing her voice to waver. “I know that, after all of these projects, it might not seem the most creative, but bear with me.”

“And your topic?” Madame Bustier prompted.

“Ladybug and Chat Noir,” she answered, then allowed the photos to speak for themselves.

Ladybug, kneeling before a little girl, hand on her shoulder in a comforting gesture.

Chat Noir, parrying the attack of a particularly vicious akuma. Behind him cowered several civilians, shielded from the brunt of the blast by the leather-clad superhero.

Ladybug and Chat Noir, moments _after_ their signature “pound it”, smiling at each other, seemingly unaware of the clicks and flashes around them as they locked gazes.

Then there were the scenes she captured outside of battle. There was Chat Noir, sitting on Chloe’s rooftop, laughing at her pathetic excuse of a pun. There was Ladybug, obliging to Chloe’s request for a photo, looking almost unsure of herself. She looked nothing like the confident superheroine presented to the public.

Then, finally, Ladybug _and_ Chat Noir, comforting an akuma victim after purifying the akuma.

“We put our heroes on a pedestal too much,” Chloe said, knowing fully well how hypocritical she might have sounded. But if there was one thing she had learned in the past month or so of pursuing the superhero duo, it was that they were so much _more_ than just a confident superheroine and her sidekick. “They’re human, just like us. They care, just like us. And they hurt, just like us.”

Ugh, she _really_ should’ve written down her speech on a card. Chloe could feel her brain literally freezing, but to her _growing_ surprise, she found Alya raising a challenging eyebrow at her. Not in particular admiration, but not in particular disgust either. It was more of a look of contemplation. Somehow, Chloe gathered her wits to go on.

“Earlier, Nathanael was talking about the Sun symbolizing hope. And that’s true. Everyone can agree that they’re our hope. They’re our last defense against Hawkmoth. But they’re not just superheroes because they defend our town from villains: they’re heroes because they inspire us.” _Deep breaths, Chloe. Slow down, Chloe. Stop talking so fast, Chloe._ Little commands like those helped her focus.

“They’re kind. They’re gentle. They’re considerate. Even without the leather and spandex, even without the mask, they’re heroes. They’re still our Sun. They inspire us to be the best we can be, and in return they always give us their best.” Chloe was on a roll now, and if she didn’t plow on, she knew that she wouldn’t be able to express everything that she wanted to express. She didn’t look up at any of her classmates’ expressions, instead fixating her gaze on the final picture.

“They’re our Sun: they’re a constant in our lives that we will always believe in. When there’s an akuma attack and Ladybug or Chat Noir arrives on the scene, we feel relieved and _safe_ ...even if the akuma isn’t purified yet.” Chloe paused, allowing the sentiment to sink in. It was _true_ : as soon as the duo arrived on the scene, crowds began cheering, people began smiling, and their fears shriveled away. “Why? Because we know that they’ll be there for us.”

She hesitated, then added, “And in turn, we should be there for them. Even if we can’t be the Sun to them, we owe it to them to try. We owe it to them to inspire others, to protect, and to help them when they need us. They’re not just our hope: they’re our _goal_. Even if we can’t be the Sun...well, shoot for the stars, and you’ll land on the moon. Right?”

Chloe had...completely run out of things to say, if she had to be brutally honest. _Oh God, I rambled way too fast._

She sneaked a glance at her classmates, only to be met with dumbstruck expressions. Her cheeks heated up.

“Um...yeah.” She shuffled her feet, grimaced, then pulled herself together. Striding back to her seat with a purposeful hair flip, Chloe nodded at Madame Bustier. “I’m done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (There's a lot of tiny things here and there about Chloe + her superhero complex that I really liked?)  
> (Reminder that I wrote the majority of this on four hours of sleep + no revisions; please don't judge too hard???)
> 
> Love you all! You're all amazing. Seriously. I'm literally the laziest sloth on my own, but then I look at your reviews and tell myself that I gOTTA WRITE, THEY LIKE THIS STORY???
> 
> So, thank you so much. Thank you. :D


	4. Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More Chloe growth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh look, a once in a blue moon update!

_“That_ was interesting.”

“If you’ve got something to say, tomato-head, spit it out,” Chloe sighed, spinning around and nearly whacking Nathanael with her authentic leather Gucci purse. Fortunately, the boy ducked just in time to remain unscathed.

“You’ve changed,” Nathanael told her bluntly, blue eyes scrutinizing her. Sometime during their photo-editing sessions, he began to talk to her without his previous reservation —and by that, she meant that he began _sassing_ her daily. Chloe wanted to say that he grew a backbone, but couldn’t, considering his poorly-concealed wince at her glare.

“I think you’re the fourth or fifth person to tell me that,” Chloe snorted, dismissing his comment with a wave of her hand. Under her breath, she mumbled, “There should be a line.”

“I think they like your photos. Alya’s eyeing you, by the way. It’s really scary,” he commented. It took all of Chloe’s self restraint not to whip around and stare at the brunette, who was engaged in a raucous conversation with Nino. “You should try to keep up with that.”

“What?”

“Photography,” Nathanael said, staring at her. “I think it’s good for you.”

“It’s _time consuming,”_ Chloe pointed out.

“And enjoyable?”

“...”

“...”

“...maybe a little,” Chloe grudgingly allowed. “Ugh, whatever, tomato-head. I’ll think about it. Sabrina, we’re going!”

“Y-yes, Chloe!” Sabrina squeaked meekly, scrambling out of her seat to follow the assertive blonde. Their steps quickly fell in tandem as they walked to the school entrance, where undoubtedly a chauffeur would be waiting to escort them back. Chloe paused, then impulsive turned around to face her long-time...friend.

“Let’s go a different way.”

“Different?” Sabrina echoed nervously. “Should I call the driver so they can meet us—”

“No need,” Chloe dismissed impatiently, motioning for Sabrina to follow. She marched out of the school’s back entrance determinedly, slipping past the gates and rounding the corner. “We can head to one of the cafes around here.”

They walked in silence for several paces. Sabrina always knew how to read her best...and also knew when Chloe wanted silence to think. Finally, Chloe voiced her thoughts aloud: “You told me before...that I was acting different. How?”

“U-um…” Sabrina looked caught off guard, blushing and looking down to fiddle with her bag. “Well…”

“Well?” Chloe demanded.

“You’re just a little... _nicer…”_ Sabrina mumbled.

Chloe scowled, crossing her arms over her chest as she whirled around to face her companion properly. “I can’t hear you, speak up!”

“You’re _NICER!”_ Sabrina blurted out, immediately gasping and covering her mouth when she realized what she had said.

“Does that mean I _wasn’t_ nice before?” Chloe arched an eyebrow, her scowl deepening.

“Um...well…” Sabrina struggled to find the words to properly convey how she felt. “Not exactly...Chloe, you’ve always been super nice, you know? But you don’t show it that often to others...especially our classmates. You never really found the _need_ to be nice to them, since you didn’t find them that important.”

“I’m _nice.”_

“Yes,” Sabrina confirmed. “But were you ever...nice...to them?”

Chloe paused.

Encouraged by her friend’s thoughtful silence, Sabrina plowed on. “You always saw them as people of _no importance,”_ she emphasized. “Which was why you didn’t see any point it getting along with them. But ever since you picked up photography, I think you took a few steps back. It’s easier to look at everything more impartially through other lens, you know?”

“So you’re saying that photography made me a better person,” Chloe said flatly.

“No!” Sabrina insisted, stammering, “Y-you...it...it just helped you _show_ that you were a better person than how you portray yourself to be, Chloe.”

Chloe blinked, unable to come up with a response to that. Ultimately, she decided to not reply at all, huffing. “Alright, enough of this talk. Let’s go grab a smoothie or something.”

“A-alright, Chloe,” Sabrina agreed, a smile tugging at her face. If it had been a month ago, Chloe would’ve blown up in her face for even _insinuating_ that she was less than kind to their classmates. This...it wasn’t that different before, but somehow Sabrina felt a weight on her shoulders lighten as they walked side by side to the cafe.

* * *

 

“Am I different?”

“Why are you asking _me,_ Miss Bourgeois? I’m _feline_ honored and all, but I don’t know you _that_ well.”

Chloe snorted. “You and Ladybug have saved me more times than I can count. You may not know me _that_ well, but you’ve certainly interacted with me enough to form an opinion about me.”

“You’re...softer,” Chat admitted, a smile curving on his lips. “And I think your attitude to akumas has gotten better.”

This observation caught her attention. She inclined her head towards him inquisitively, pursing her lips. “What do you mean?”

“Before you saw them as stupid for blaming their akumatization on you. You found it stupid that they felt such negative emotions because of your criticism. Now, you don’t _blame_ them for feeling negative. You just find the _reasons_ they’re akumatized stupid.”

“The amount of trivial reasons I’ve heard _is_ ridiculous,” Chloe agreed. “You’d think Hawk Moth would find some...I don’t know...better villains?”

“Do my ears deceive me? I’m _paw_ sitive I just heard Chloe Bourgeois, number one Ladybug fan, ask Hawk Moth to create better akumas,” Chat gasped. “What has the world come to?”

“You know, you kind of remind me of Adrien,” Chloe said, squinting at him before glancing up at the sky contemplatively. If she had been paying more attention, she would’ve noticed Chat twitch uncomfortably. “He has the same cheesy humor as you. Not that anybody knows about that.”

“Another _purr_ veyor of the fine art of puns? _Claw_ some!”

“Stop,” Chloe groaned. “He used to test those kinds of puns with me when we were little, you know. I think he stopped doing them after M. Agreste began encouraging him to act more professional, but sometimes I _swear_ he— why am I talking to you about this, anyways?”

Chat shrugged, flashing her a grin. “Because you like _chat_ ting with me? Anyways, tell me about Adrien. We were talking about him the other day, right?”

Chloe nodded. “I’m attending the same fencing school as him, now,” she confided. “Don’t tell anyone, though. My win-lose record is horrendous, and I’d rather not let anyone find out.”

“You just started, though. It’s normal for a beginner.”

She paused. “Do you fence?” she asked curiously, peering at him.

“Ah...yeah, sort of. In my free time. But enough about me. Secret identities must stay secret, after all. The mystery’s part of the charm.”

She laughed. “Charm. Right.”

“It’s true!”

Chloe sighed, relenting. “It’s nice to talk with Adrien like we used to, you know. He’s always so _bright._ It sort of makes me wish I could’ve done that project after all…”

“What project?”

“Remember the project which I photographed you and Ladybug? I was planning to photograph him, originally, but he was too busy,” Chloe explained, lips pursing. “Adrien’s...he’s the very definition of Sun, really. He’s always trying to cheer up and please others, the idiot. He cares too much about others’ feelings.”

“Ah…” Chat’s voice sounded a bit faint.

“That’s why I need to stick around him, you know. His kindness will be his downfall if I’m not around to bring his head back to earth. I swear, he’s going to get conned someday and end up murdered in a dark alleyway,” Chloe muttered furiously.

“Mm, well it seems like you really...care for him, huh?”

“Of course,” Chloe said unhesitatingly. “He’s my friend. Just like...you are.”

Chat blinked. Then, slowly, he smiled. “You know, you really _have_ changed, Miss Bourgeois.”

“Oh, shove it, cat boy.”

“Chat.”

“Chloe.”

He laughed. “See you around then, Chlo.”

* * *

 

“I need to talk to you.”

“Really,” Chloe drawled, eyeing her classmate in the mirror as she signalled to her hairdresser to continue. “Barging into my hair appointment without warning? I thought such methods were beneath you, Cesaire.”

Alya shrugged, sliding into the seat beside her. “You’re a tricky person to approach, you know. Especially since you’ve been leaving class quickly recently. I happened to overhear one of the drivers talking about your hair appointments and figured it’d be the best place to meet you.”

“How _thoughtful_ of you,” Chloe said dryly.

To her credit, Alya looked hardly off put by Chloe’s blatant sarcasm. The girl had _grit_ to her, at the very least. “I want to use your pictures on the Ladyblog.”

“Done. You have my permission. Shoo.”

Alya twitched. “I also want you to help me.”

Chloe paused, then turned to face her. “Pardon, I think I just heard _Alya Cesaire_ ask _Chloe Bourgeois_ for help. What has the world come to?”

Alya rolled her eyes. “You’re still keeping up with photography anyways, right?” she gestured to the bag propped next to Chloe’s seat where her camera resided. “I’ve been chatting with some fans of the Ladyblog who want to make a large compilation of Paris’s heroes to thank them. Their two year anniversary of protecting Paris is coming up, you know.”

“So you want me to take pictures for a thank-you message?”

“Well, any contributions to the Ladyblog would be welcome.” Alya shifted uncomfortably, then admitted, “Most of the submissions we get are low resolution, not to mention bad shots. Most of the shots you presented today are ten times better than our current content. Most on-the-scene civilians are more focused on running away from akumas, you know.”

Chloe shrugged. She’d been around way too many akumas to be intimidated by their threats. “Point taken. I’ll send some pictures your way sometime, Cesaire.”

“Cool.” Alya nodded. “...and...your presentation last week. It...it was pretty good, you know.”

“I’d say the same, but sunsets and sunrises aren’t that original, you know,” Chloe couldn’t help but jibe.

Alya blinked. Then, against all expectations, she threw her head up into the air and _laughed._ “You’re right,” she admitted. “I threw that together last minute since I had been working on the Ladyblog. See you later, Bourgeois.”

“Mmhm. Next time, try not to barge into my hair appointments.”

“Will do.”

* * *

 

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng...why are you _here?”_

Marinette shifted her weight from her right to her left awkwardly. “Chloe,” she acknowledged, averting her gaze. “Well, you see..I kind of left my bag. Here. While...walking. Have you seen it?”

“You abandoned your bag on a park bench while _walking?”_ Chloe repeated incredulously, rolling her eyes. “I can’t _believe_ you. There was an akuma attack just the next street down, you know? It could’ve easily been taken by one of the civilians fleeing here. It’s that stupid pink one, right?”

“Um, yeah.”

Chloe grumbled under her breath about stupid oblivious classmates as she reached into her purse and threw the pink bag towards her classmate with surprising force. Heh, she guessed that the fencing lessons were beginning to pay off.

Marinette somehow managed to catch it, despite how clumsy she usually was. “Ah, thanks.”

“Yeah, whatever. Don’t go losing it again.”

* * *

 

Chloe was just returning from fencing practice when a prison made of fucking _roses_ formed around the city block. The blonde blinked in surprise, scrutinizing the impenetrable wall of roses. There was no way she could break them with her sabre.

“Ugh, damn akumas,” she muttered as people began screaming around her. “I’m going to be home late again.”

“I am the Gardener!” bellowed a woman dressed in a gown of scarlet rose petal. She raised her shovel in the air menacingly. “People of Paris, it is time we save the environment! Save our gardens! Stop those evil bureaucrats from invading our true Paris!”

Oh great, an environmentalist. Chloe groaned, her lack of enthusiasm catching the akuma’s attention. “You!” the Gardener exclaimed, pointing her shovel at Chloe. “You’re the mayor’s daughter.”

“Single, hot, and ready to mingle,” Chloe confirmed, yawning. “Listen, I _can’t_ come home late again or Daddy’s going to _kill_ me. Can you please let us go so we can be on our way?”

“Blasphemy! Blatant disrespect for our natural environment!”

She felt a migraine coming. “Ugh, stop _yelling,_ dammit.”

“That’s it! I will show the world the beauty of nature once again. My roses, rise! Grow! Display your natural splendor to the world!” the Gardener beckoned. Immediately, the wall of roses began growing. Chloe couldn’t see what was going on in the other city blocks, but she could probably safely assume that the roses were beginning to take over.

“—stop this!” came Ladybug’s muffled voice from the other side of the rose wall.

...oh, Chat Noir probably hadn’t come yet. His Cataclysm would undoubtedly destroy the wall, but he’d need time before he could arrive. Chloe groaned, slowly withdrawing her sabre. “Hey, you! Ugly! Didn’t anyone tell you that your fashion sense _sucks?_ The dress clashes with your eyes!” she called.

_“What was that?”_ the Gardener raged, pointing her shovel at her. Chloe was not impressed.

“And you know, roses are _so_ outdated. Couldn’t you have picked a more unique flower to harangue about, at the very least?” Chloe complained. “And why the hell are you preaching about the beauty of _true_ nature if you’re into _gardens?”_

“I’ll have you know that—”

“What kind of sad backstory do you have this time, huh?” Chloe plowed on. She _definitely_ wasn’t ready for a duel...and she doubted her flimsy fencing sabre would hold up against the oversized shovel the akuma was carrying. So Chloe did what she did best: _talk._ “There’s not even any kind of new demolishing project going on right now, dammit! And a shovel. A shovel, really? What kind of pathetic weapon is that?”

“This is my grandfather’s prized shovel, which he passed on to me like his grandfather did to him—”

“Oh, how touching. Is that where your akuma is?” Chloe asked loudly.

“Enough talk! Some humans just can’t appreciate true beauty...so I’ll just have to get rid of them. You’re the first one I’ll get rid of, Chloe Bourgeois!” The Gardener dashed towards her.

_Wait for it…_

The akuma drew nearer.

... _wait for it…_

The akuma raised her shovel at her.

_Now._

Chloe parried the akuma’s strike, then darted to the left and rolled away as the rose wall disintegrated behind her.

“We’re _paw_ fully sorry for being late!” Chat Noir apologized cheerfully, swinging into the scene alongside Ladybug. “Now, it’s time for some pest control.”

Chloe snickered, then pulled out her camera and snapped a photo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *wipes away proud tears because our baby is GROWING*
> 
> Shameless plug — I have a new Miraculous Ladybug fic out.   
> It's about a darker!Miraculous Ladybug, and includes both the PV verse and canonverse characters. If you're looking for more ML content, feel free to check it out!
> 
> As always, thank you all for reviewing! Love you all.


	5. Scream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plot (and character development) continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh, I wrote a Miraculous Ladybug fic? whoops.  
> p.s. I also updated another Miraculous Ladybug fic  
> posted at midnight ish, so the gods of editing have unfortunately not spared you all today

The day started off normally — no, it started off quite  _ pleasantly, _ if Chloe was to be completely honest. She had awoken to Jean Claude carrying a strawberry smoothie on a tray; Chloe suspected that she was becoming addicted to the drink. There had been no akumas for the previous few nights, so Chloe felt rather well-rested and serene as she went through the motions of her daily morning routine.

Her hair, thankfully, cooperated with her, buying Jean Claude enough time to drop her off at a cafe for another smoothie before heading to school.

Chloe had just received a high score on her chemistry exam yesterday, so she was in a rather cheery mood as she strolled into the classroom. (Her classmates noticed her rare, content smile, but chose not to comment about it: they were beginning to become accustomed to Chloe Bourgeois’s changing personality.)

“Hi, Chloe!” Sabrina chirped, waving madly. Her enthusiasm might have bothered Chloe had it been a few weeks before, but she was in too good of a mood to care. The redhead’s beam grew brighter as Chloe approached her. “I saw your Ladybug and Chat Noir pictures on the Ladyblog yesterday: they were so cool!”

Aware of all the eyes on them, Chloe shrugged almost modestly. “I may have taken the pictures, but tomato head helped enhance them,” she admitted grudgingly. Seeing Sabrina’s questioning look, the blonde sighed and jabbed a finger at the aforementioned redhead, who was sketching in the back of the classroom. “Him.”

Nathanael squirmed in his chair and sunk lower in his seat as some of their classmates turned to glance at him. “It wasn’t much…” he mumbled.

Chloe snorted, narrowing her eyes at him. “Don’t be stupid, tomato head. You performed some kind of voodoo witchcraft—” For particular dramatic emphasis, she gestured flamboyantly with her hands. “—with that program and suddenly the colors were popping out super vividly.”

Nathanael averted his gaze, embarrassed.

_ Where did all of that sass from yesterday go? _ Chloe inwardly snickered at his bashful attitude. Before she could point out his embarrassment, someone interrupted the conversation with a startled gasp.

“Those photos were  _ yours?” _ someone piped up. Chloe blinked in surprise, then turned to face an awed Mylene. “Wow, that’s amazing! Your photos captured Ladybug so beautifully, Chloe,” Mylene clapped her hands together in delight, gushing, “Even though I saw your presentation, I had no idea that you were  _ this _ talented.”

Talented?  _ Chloe? _

“Uh, ah...yeah,” she sputtered, unsure of how to reply to the compliment. “Thanks?”

“I noticed there were some pictures I didn’t see in your presentation posted on the Ladyblog! Did you take some more?” Rose asked with rounded eyes. The blonde fiddled with her fingers, shifting anxiously as Chloe turned to scrutinize her. (It had taken Rose a few moments to muster the courage to join the conversation.) 

“Well, uh…” Chloe’s brain short-circuited. “...because of the time limit, I had to cut some out of my presentation. Although I think I  _ did _ send Cesaire a few ones I took recently...” 

God damn it, she was  _ Chloe Bourgeois, _ not some simple, stuttering teenager who couldn’t respond to compliments. This was pathetic. Chloe gathered herself together, steeling herself and taking a deep breath to steady her nerves.  _ You are Chloe Bourgeois, not some simpleton. You are Chloe Bourgeois: confident, vocal, and sassy. _

She cleared her throat, flipping her hair arrogantly. “Well, I mean, of  _ course _ my photos were great. Ladybug and Chat Noir deserve the best, after all, and I’m their number one fan.”

A laugh resounded from the doorway. “Ladybug  _ and _ Chat Noir, huh?”

Chloe brightened, immediately recognizing the suave voice. “Adrikins!” she squealed, dashing over to him. “Morning~”

“Morning, Chlo,” Adrien greeted gently, patting her lightly on the back as she tackled him. She was bestowed with a wide grin. “So...you think you’re their number one fan?”

“Of course,” Chloe sniffed, detaching from him to flick him in the forehead. “Don’t even try to contest me, you Ladybug-obsessed geek.”

“Chlo!” Adrien hissed, mortified that she’d declare his obsession to the world. (To the side of the classroom, Marinette let out a sort of strangled “eep!” and proceeded to trip over air.) His voice sounded somewhat strained. “Ladybug’s amazing, okay?”

“And beautiful, and kind, and heroic, blah blah blah. I got the memo,” Chloe dismissed, nearly snickering aloud when she noticed the pink dusting her childhood friend's cheeks. Instead, she settled for a knowing smirk. “I already know. But you can’t just ignore Chat.”

“Wh-what about Chat?” If Chloe had been paying attention, she would’ve noticed a nervous note in her childhood friend’s voice. Unfortunately, she was too focused on the matter at hand.

“You always praise Ladybug for saving the city, but you never mention Chat,” Chloe accused, crossing her arms over her chest. “They’re a team package, you know.”

“Of course I know!” Adrien protested.

Chloe posed her ultimatum. “Then why don’t you praise him as often as you praise Ladybug?”

“B-because I...I...don’t,” Adrien sputtered weakly. He straightened, adopting that professional look that might fool others; Chloe knew him too well, though, and could see through his bullshit. “Listen, Chlo. Just because I may not talk about him as often doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate what he does for Paris,” he explained, smiling innocently.

She gave him a hard, measured glare that called out his bullshit. Adrien’s smile twitched.

“Just imagine a Paris without such a  _ claw _ some guy. It’d be a  _ cat _ astrophe!” her childhood friend added, beaming at her with his hundred-kilowatt smile of sunshine cheer and effectively blinding their silently spectating classmates.

“Oh my God, not you too,” Chloe bemoaned. “I already have one punner in my life. I don’t need a second. Why can’t you just admit your celebrity crush on Ladybug and be done with it?” (Marinette yelped, just barely stopping herself from stumbling over a chair.)

“Because that’d be  _ fur _ too easy! Think of this as your  _ pun _ ishment, Chlo,” Adrien explained cheerfully, grinning at her. His emerald eyes twinkled mischievously, reminding her of the happy boy she knew from the times when Madame Agreste was still around; such a comparison immediately made the smile on her face turn a little sadder.

Madame Bustier entered the classroom, effectively cutting off their discussion. “Enough talking, class. Today we will begin our unit about thermodynamics,” she declared, her presence immediately sending everyone scurrying to their seats.

* * *

 

In hindsight, Marinette should have been more careful. She was  _ Ladybug, _ for heaven’s sake; no matter what the situation, she should have been on her guard. Ladybug was supposed to be immoveable, smart, and not prone to stupid,  _ stupid  _ mistakes.

Then again, all of those attributes of Ladybug that Marinette possessed were basically thrown out of the window when Adrien was concerned. He was just so...so... _ kind. _

(Before, she might’ve said  _ perfect, _ but ever since Chloe started changing, Marinette witnessed a completely different side of Adrien and began questioning if he really was perfect. Seeing him joke around and tease the Bourgeois girl reminded Marinette of the fact that he was...well, her peer. He was just another boy, albeit a very kind and forgiving one.)

“You up for it, girl?”

Marinette blinked, then turned to face her best friend. She laughed sheepishly, quirking a questioning eyebrow at her. “Sorry, what was that, Alya?”

Alya rolled her eyes, unsurprised that she was spacing out. “I was just talking with Nino about the four of us heading to the movies over the weekend since Adrien’s free,” Alya explained, winking.

“Th-the movies?” Marinette squeaked.

That was when everything went downhill.

“It’d be great if you could come, Marinette,” resounded Adrien’s voice behind her. She hadn’t noticed his presence at  _ all. _ Immediately, Marinette leapt back to put some space between them  _ (tooclosetooclosehewaswaytooclose!), _ but instead, she tripped over someone’s bag and slammed against someone’s desk…

...specifically, Chloe Bourgeois’s. It was almost as if the world was in slow motion: with her heightened reflexes honed from countless months of battling akumas, Marinette’s eyes could easily trace the shape of Chloe’s pristine thousand euro camera…

...as it fell to the ground.

The camera landed with a loud crash, immediately drawing the attention of all the students remaining in the classroom.

Marinette froze in her tracks, unable to comprehend the fact that  _ holy shit she just broke Chloe’s camera! _

Horror dawned on her features.

_ Shit. Shit. Shit. Chloe’s going to kill me. Slowly. And then threaten Papa and Mama to pay for the fees! Then, we’ll be forced to run away and move to America or something to escape Mayor Bourgeois’s influence and so Ladybug will be gone, Paris will be screwed over, and my life will be OVER— _

_ Slowly, _ ever so slowly, Marinette craned her head to stare at Chloe Bourgeois, honestly terrified. She cringed, waiting for the blonde to  _ (rightfully, _ whispered her mind) blow up at her.

Chloe stared numbly at the broken remnants of the camera she had never parted from for the past month, then turned her gaze to Marinette. A myriad of emotions seemed to flash in the blonde’s eyes at once before they quickly faded away. All that was left was a bleak, emotionless stare that rendered Marinette unable to move or think.

Slowly, almost  _ methodically, _ Chloe grabbed her bag and pivoted on her heel, walking out briskly without a word.

The class watched the entire event unfold in terrified stupefaction — the kind that one usually possessed when watching a trainwreck. A heavy, oppressive silence settled upon the room. Marinette knew that eyes were watching her, but she was too numb to process Alya’s comforting hand on her shoulder.

There was only one thought echoing in her mind:

_ I screwed up. _

In the back of her mind, a voice laughed mockingly.

(Some hero she was.)

The silence remained chokingly pervasive in the classroom for several more moments, then the world began to move again.

_ “Chlo, _ ” Adrien breathed, horrified. Then, he shook off his shock and began to move. “I’m going after her,” he declared to the few students left in the room. “Bye, everyone.”

He tossed his bag over his shoulder and dashed out of the room.

If she was just Marinette, she would’ve broken down in tears. 

But she wasn’t just Marinette: she was Ladybug. She was  _ Ladybug,  _ and that stronger side of herself was feeling practically overwhelmed with guilt for destroying something so precious to someone...even if it belonged to Chloe Bourgeois.

“I…” Marinette’s throat was dry. She cleared her throat, her voice coming out stronger this time. “I think I should go, too.”

She shook off Alya’s concern and swung her bag over her shoulders, following Adrien out of the classroom.

* * *

 

Chloe’s ears were ringing.

_ “Fuck,” _ she cursed, her voice low as she marched out of the school. She sent a warning glare at Jean Claude, which he was perceptive enough to understand. The chauffeur bowed his head and returned to the car, perfectly willing to wait for the Bourgeois girl for whenever she cooled down. “Fuck, fuck,  _ fuck!” _

Chloe nearly chucked her phone at the sidewalk in frustration, but stopped herself at the last moment. Instead, she gritted her teeth, her grip on her bag tightening. This was  _ stupid. _ She shouldn’t be getting this upset over a  _ camera, _ for heaven’s sake! Her father could easily replace it, although he would be disappointed in her for breaking it  _ (dammit, another disappointment to add to the already lengthy list). _

God, she was  _ better _ than this! It wasn’t like she was a toddler or something that lost her favorite toy. Chloe didn’t need a camera. She didn’t! Why the  _ hell  _ was she getting so emotional over a damned  _ camera? _ She could get a better one and rub it in Marinette’s face tomorrow. Chloe was a fucking teenager. She wouldn’t cry over a goddamn camera. She wouldn’t.

But...it was  _ her _ camera.

_ Her _ camera — the one which had accompanied her on all of her late night ventures.  _ Her _ camera — the one which she had used to take the pictures her classmates had admired so much.  _ Her _ camera — the one which she had grown accustomed to wearing around her now-empty neck.

“God  _ damn _ it, Bourgeois. Get it together!” she scolded herself, mortified to realize that her voice was thick. “Adrien’s probably going to fuss over you later if he knows that you’re  _ crying.  _ You’re not a child. You’re  _ not!” _

She stomped her foot; not necessarily out of frustration, but out of the need to shock herself to keep Chloe from crying. 

Blinking back her tears, Chloe realized that there was something fluttering towards her bag. She squinted, then gaped. Her previous sadness (although Chloe would  _ never _ call it such) turned into infuriation. “Oh,  _ hell no!”  _ Chloe snarled, throwing her bag at the butterfly and taking off. “Go fuck yourself, Hawk Moth! I’m not in the mood to prance around Paris in gaudy clothing  _ again.” _

The truth was that the last time Chloe was akumatized, she was too busy feeling depressed about Ladybug’s harsh words. This time, however, she was filled with  _ anger,  _ anger that fueled her to fend off the stupid supervillain. For good measure, Chloe flipped off the butterfly and stomped off towards the direction of her favorite cafe. It wasn’t the one that she and Adrien usually went to: Chloe wasn’t in the mood for her childhood friend’s reassurances.

She was about to reach the cafe when she noticed a commotion near the crosswalk. An elderly man was being berated by a red-faced Parisian. Chloe was tempted to ignore the scene, but when she noticed other passerbys doing exactly that, she narrowed her eyes. 

Chloe wasn’t a hero, but she certainly wasn’t going to let someone act so disgraceful in public (and, well, if she pitied the elderly Asian man a little too, that was that). 

“Hey, you! Is something the matter?” Chloe demanded, straightening her spine and intervening between the probably mid-forties Parisian and the elderly man. “You know what? It doesn't matter. You shouldn't talk to him like this. Haven’t your parents ever taught you to respect your elders?”

...as usual, Chloe’s sharp tongue struck again. Chloe resisted the urge to groan: she wasn’t a superhero or a police officer, for pity’s sake! It was  _ their _ duty to maintain the peace, after all, not  _ hers. _ Chat must have rubbed off on her more than she realized.

The man’s face turned purple. “Right back at you, sweetheart. Fuck off. This is between this shitty geezer and me.”

“Really?” Chloe sneered, unfazed by the man’s larger stature and pitiful attempt at intimidation. She was _Chloe Bourgeois,_ and she was already _pissed._  “I would, except you’ve been yelling so fucking loud that everyone in the cafe across the goddamn street can hear you! Maybe if you grow up, you’ll realize that screaming’s an immature way of resolving matters.”

“What was that?” he snarled.

“I guess imbeciles can’t even understand simple French. Here, I’ll dumb down my language for you,” Chloe said sweetly. Her lips turned downwards into a scowl. “Grow up, asshole.”

“Shut up, kid. You don’t know—”

“Is there something I may assist you with, ma’am?” cut in a voice. Immediately, Chloe turned and recognized the uniform of a Parisian police officer.

“Oh, I’m fine,” Chloe simpered, “But I think this man here might need your help.”

“Don’t you—”

Chloe’s deadly glare had been perfected through years and years of practice. Although it hasn't been used recently, she still was just as adept at wielding it as before.

“I'll be going now,” she intoned, pivoting on her heel and not paying the scene a backwards glance.

_ (“Maybe, Wayzz,” the elderly man mused later in the day, stroking his chin. “Maybe. Perhaps not today...but that child holds promise.”) _

* * *

 

A scream, one that all of its residents were all too familiar with, echoed through the streets of Paris.

_ “GIVE ME CHLOE BOURGEOIS!” _

Chloe, who had been in the middle of a trim, started up a storm of curses directed towards Hawk Moth. She had been successfully evading Adrien and Marinette, both of whom had been searching for her; she figured it out quickly once she saw the blonde frantically searching her usual cafe, but Sabrina also texted her a heads-up. She'd reward the redhead later.

Unfortunately, the hairdresser hadn’t been as relaxed. Chloe barely inched away in time to save her neck (and a fairly large portion of her hair). “Be  _ careful _ with those!” she snapped, gesturing to the lady’s scissors. “I’m heading out of here. Go hide or something. Don’t tell anyone I was here.”

The hairdresser hastily nodded, scampering off into the backroom with the rest of the staff. Since this location was fairly luxurious, the Bourgeois was the only customer. Chloe let out a weary sigh, ripping off the (rather expensive) barber’s gown. She stood up, sweeping the stray snippets of blonde hair off her shoulder and onto the ground.

It was that man she bad mouthed earlier in the day, definitely.

...in her defense, she was having a bad day.

_ (He might have been having one, too.) _

Chloe ignored the small whisper in the back of her mind and the tiny feeling of—was it guilt? Could she call it that? — creeping in her thoughts. She marched out of the salon, figuring she might as well make things easier for everyone.

_ “BOURGEOIS, YOUR TIME TO END HAS COME!” _

Was his special ability... _ yelling? _

Chloe idly wished she brought a pack of earplugs. She also wished she brought her sabre or...or  _ something _ that would make her a little less defenseless. A loud creaking noise caught her attention; immediately, Chloe darted out of the way, stumbling into the street.

And not a moment too soon. One of the balconies above where she had previously been standing literally  _ crumbled,  _ sending debris flying to the ground.

“Seriously?” Chloe demanded, dodging what appeared to be a neon blue soundwave. The disbelief flickering across her features morphed into weary resignation.  _ “Seriously.” _

Unfortunately, Chloe found out quickly that the akuma didn't just shoot super sound waves everywhere; he moved quickly too. Something that sounded like a mini sonic boom accompanied his lunge and suddenly —  _ oh my, not pleasant at all. Hand over throat. Choking. Can't breathe. Think, Chloe, think!  _

His grip was too strong for her to wrestle with, but maybe she could kick him…? No, he was too far away. She couldn't give up. There was bound to be some way...something she could do...

_ Hurts. Choking still. No air. _

She felt her consciousness slipping away, her vision turning black as she faintly registered the golden locket around the akuma’s neck...how...unusual...

_ Dammit. Stupid. Choking. Not good. _

Fuck, she was going to die via akuma. What a pathetic way to go…

_ Black. Dark. Hurts. _

_ “Chloe!” _

Something quick slammed into them, sending both Chloe and the akuma tumbling to the ground. She had about a second to register dazedly that she was out of the akuma’s grip before someone grabbed her wrist and pulled her to her feet, hissing, “Come on!”

Although not fully coherent, she managed to stumble after the figure. Their iron grip on her wrist helped. “Wha...Marinette?” Chloe sputtered incredulously, black spots dancing before her eyes. “Why are you—”

“Less talking, more moving!” Marinette called over her shoulder, guiding them through several alleyways. Behind them, buildings crumbled. “This akuma’s a bit dangerous, in case you haven’t noticed!”

Chloe scowled at the girl’s sarcastic reply, redoubling her pace. “Between you and I, I think we know which of us has more experience dealing with akumas, thank you very much.”

“I’d say that’s rather debatable,” Marinette muttered under her breath. Her tone changed; now, it was urgent, demanding. “Left!”

They took a sharp turn, barely avoiding another soundwave. If it had been any other time, Chloe might have even stopped to grudgingly admire how nimble her classmate was, leaping over impediments and dodging falling debris. They swerved to the right to avoid another sound wave.

Chloe’s legs were beginning to ache from their high-paced sprinting when their savior appeared, literally dropping from the rooftops.

“Sorry to keep you lovely ladies waiting, but it  _ sounds _ like you need a little help!”

“Chat,” Chloe and Marinette said immediately, their voices sounding remarkably similar: relieved, but also exasperated. She exchanged startled glances with the bluebell-eyed girl, but had no time to contemplate about the casual manner Marinette addressed the leather-clad superhero.

Another boom resounded.

“Where’s Ladybug?” Chat mumbled to himself. Curiously, Chloe watched her classmate subtly wince. He turned to them, expression grim. “Listen, you two need to get out of here. Hide somewhere safe.”

Chloe considered her options, then turned to Marinette. “Go back to your parents’ bakery,” she commanded. Chloe didn’t  _ like _ Marinette that much, but a tiny part of her conscience nagged at her to not involve her classmate in her affairs. She wasn’t  _ protecting _ her...she was just...minimizing collateral damage.

“Wha—”

“He’s after me,” Chloe explained impatiently. Every second they spent talking was dangerous. “So it doesn’t matter if I hide. Chat, take me to the stadium.”

“The stadium?” Chat echoed uncomprehendingly, looking just as lost as Marinette.

Chloe rolled her eyes. “Unless you  _ want _ him to keep collapsing Parisian block after block!” she hissed, gesturing wildly behind them.

Chat paused, but evidently heard the logic behind her words. Although he looked reluctant, the superhero ultimately had to yield to reason. “Alright,” he acquiesced, sounding as if agreeing physically hurt him. “Miss Dupain-Cheng, can you get back to your home by yourself?”

“I…” Marinette hesitated, her gaze firmly pinned on Chloe. Then, she glanced down at her purse and let out a resigned sigh. “...yeah. Be careful, both of you.”

They exchanged a curt nod before Marinette took off running and Chat swooped down and swept Chloe up in his arms. Chloe rolled his eyes at his histrionics, but nonetheless waved mockingly at the akuma as Chat used his baton to propel them to the rooftops. 

Sucking in a deep breath, she called loudly, “If you want to be intimidating, you might want to drop the parakeet suit, dumbass!”

Chat snickered, but stayed mostly silent as he leapt from rooftop to rooftop. She was somewhat used to being carried (by both akumas and superheroes), but she always loved to watch Paris from the rooftops; that was why her room was so high up. Of course, it would be better if she actually had time to  _ enjoy _ the view, but judging by the sound of booms behind them, the akuma wasn’t far behind.

Finally, only a block away from the stadium, someone dropped beside them. “Sorry for being late!”

“My lady!” Chat cried, a grin spreading across his face. “Kind of you to join us.”

Ladybug shot her partner a smile before nodding at Chloe. “Not now, kitty. Looks like there’s a troublemaker whose mouth needs to be zipped shut,” she quipped.

“Any ideas?” Chat asked as they landed in the stadium. Chloe slid out of his hold awkwardly, not able to do anything but watch the superhero duo bounce ideas back and forth.

“We could trap him?”

“Not possible with this open field. What about the speakers?”

“We’re trying to  _ reduce _ the amount of soundwaves.”

“Maybe,” Chloe cut in. “You should use your lucky charm, Ladybug.”

After all, things tended to go their way when she did. Ladybug paused, then nodded. Tossing her yoyo upwards, she called, “Lucky Charm!”

And, in a flurry of pink sparkles, something landed in her hands. “A roll of...cloth? What am I supposed to do with this?”

“That’s the same material they use for acoustic curtains,” Chat offered, surprisingly well-versed. “They're relatively soundproof. Or, at the very least, should absorb a decent amount of sound. That’s...a lot more than we probably need, though.”

Ladybug examined the stadium for a few seconds, gaze sweeping over the area. Then, her face brightened. “Chat, can you buy me some time?”

“Got it.”

The red-clad superhero swung her yoyo high up in the stands, lassoing around a pole and effectively swinging herself up. She was too far away for Chloe to see, so she turned her attention to Chat. The superhero looked fairly confident, tapping his foot and waiting for the akuma to arrive while holding onto his baton.

“How do you do it?”

The question slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it.

Chat paused. “Do what?”

“Just...this.” She waved her hand to gesture at Chat in his entirety, somewhat irritated. “How do you survive day after day knowing that you're responsible for Paris’s safety? How do you put your blind faith into her plans?”

Although he kept his eyes peeled for the akuma, Chat answered her. “Because to me, saving Paris is more than just a job...and Chat Noir means more to me than just a mask. To me, Ladybug isn’t just a coworker...she’s my partner.”

_ “SONIC SCREAAAAAM!” _

Chat muttered something under his breath, lunging forward and pushing Chloe to the ground, shielding her. “Okay, good job, you played the bait well. Now get out of here,” he instructed somewhat harshly. Maybe Chloe’s abrasiveness was rubbing off of him. “Please, Miss Bourgeois, this akuma’s more dangerous than usual.”

“Cesaire would  _ kill _ me if I missed a scoop like this,” Chloe snorted, whipping out her cell phone. Chat let out a groan, but quickly got to his feet and dragged her away before another sound wave could hit them.

_ “SONIC SCREAAAAAM!” _

“Why the hell is he announcing his attacks?” Chloe muttered under her breath. Her unimpressed expression shifted, however, once Chat launched forward and began pushing back the akuma with his baton.

His lightning-quick strikes left the akuma with no time to launch another attack; for a moment, Chloe thought that Chat might even corner the akuma before Ladybug’s plan could be put into action. Then, Chat happened to glance upwards towards where Ladybug was.

That brief second was all the akuma needed.

_ “SONIC SCREAAAAAM!” _

Chat was knocked back about fifteen feet behind her, his face planted in dirt.

The akuma turned to her.

_ “I...AM...THE...SCREAMER!”  _ he bellowed, sending tremors through the ground.

“No  _ shit!”  _ Chloe snapped.

The akuma glowered, then sucked in a deep breath to send a devastating attack her way. Chloe suddenly realized that her sass was probably not the best of defense against a soundwave. Then, Ladybug’s voice rang in the arena.

“Hey! Over here, you wannabe parakeet!”

The Screamer turned around and spotted the red-clad superheroine just a few feet behind him. Ladybug gave him something akin to a smirk, then pointed upwards.

Apparently, Ladybug had taken the time to sew the cloth into one giant blanket of a sorts: Chloe wasn’t sure what kind of mechanism she used to drop the cloth on the akuma, but she certainly wasn’t complaining.

“My lady, it’s his locket!” Chat shouted, stumbling to his feet. Ladybug lunged forward to grab it; at the same time, Chloe found herself moving too, essentially securing the cloth around the akuma’s face as Ladybug snatched the locket and crushed in under her feet.

“Time to de-evilize!”

Chloe watched, fascinated, as the black butterfly attempting to escape  _ (where…?)  _ was captured by Ladybug’s yoyo. There was something magical about it—obvious magic aside, watching the akuma be purified right before her eyes was…

...amazing.

_ “Miraculous...Ladybug!” _

* * *

 

“His daughter died a few days ago in a car accident. Apparently, they had gotten into a shouting match just before that, so he’s been blaming himself for her death,” Chat explained. Ladybug was still consoling the akuma victim: since the affair had wrapped up relatively quickly, they stuck around for a few minutes to talk with both Chloe and the man (Monsieur Alex, he insisted on being called).

Chloe watched Ladybug hug the man and whisper comforting words, her gaze heavy.

“Miss Bourgeois?”

“Give me a second,” she mumbled. Then, before her courage could falter, Chloe strode forward and approached the pair. “Monsieur Alex,” she said.

Although his eyes were red, the man looked up to meet her eyes. “Miss Bourgeois,” he acknowledged. “I...I’m sorry for attacking you.”

“That wasn’t you,” Chloe dismissed. “But I should probably...um, apologize too. I didn’t know the circumstances—”

“No, you were right to confront me,” he cut her off, shaking his head ashamedly. “For me to act so unkindly to others...what would my daughter think of me?”

_ “Still,” _ Chloe insisted, putting her good ol’ Bourgeois stubbornness to use. “I shouldn’t have spoken so harshly to you. Listen, I just wanted to let you know...um, well...I don’t blame you at all, okay? This was also my fault. And I’m sorry about your daughter.”

There was an awkward pause. Chloe could feel both Ladybug and Chat’s gazes on her.

“Thank you, Miss Bourgeois.” His shoulders sagged, but somehow it looked as if a weight had been taken off of his shoulders. “Thank you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hihihiiii, here's your once in a blue moon update ;P I was taken captive by the BNHA fandom (no regrets), but I've returned. For now. Maybe. ;) I missed writing this fic ahaha
> 
> Plot development, chara development (on multiple ends), and progress! Lowkey this is the most slowburn Chloe redemption fic out there, isn't it? LOLOL (sobs)  
> Thank you all for the amazing feedback :) Your reviews were what guilt tri--I mean, motivated me to continue writing this.
> 
> Feel free to drop a review if you have time! ^^


	6. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nathanael.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wawaw an (admittedly short) update that didn't take months after months of hiatus
> 
> p.s. I don't art; please have mercy on my soul
> 
> please enjoy this lighter chapter written at the expense of my philosophy grade

“Chloe, I—”

“Save it, Marinette,” Chloe dismissed their class president immediately, not looking up from her phone. Faintly, she registered the fact that the few classmates who came to school early had fallen silent. Sabrina, to her side, awkwardly looked away.

“I wanted to—”

“Apologize?” She glanced up to meet bluebell eyes, shrugging. “Cool. Apology accepted.”

“No, I wanted to talk about reimbursement.” Marinette squared her shoulders, her posture firm and her eyes determined. For a moment, Chloe thought that it wasn’t Marinette standing before her, but cool and strong Ladybug. Then, she blinked and remembered that this was  _ Marinette Dupaine-Cheng,  _ her classmate since primary school. 

Marinette was still talking. “I can’t pay off the entire amount immediately, but—”

“Shush.”

“Chloe—”

Chloe rolled her eyes, letting out a tiny  _ harrumph _ . A tint of grudging respect in her voice, she elaborated,  “Consider your debt paid.”

“That wouldn’t sit right with me.”

“I already had Daddy order a new one for me, alright?” Chloe rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. Marinette didn’t seem convinced. “I don’t need two cameras, and money’s not an issue. Listen, if you feel  _ that _ bad, just make me a...scarf, or something. If you make it hideous, I’ll kill you.”

“She won’t budge anytime soon, Marinette,” a voice resounded from behind them. Adrien gave Chloe a tiny grin. “Chlo’s stubborn like that. Better get working on that scarf.”

For once, Marinette didn’t turn into a blubbering mess at Adrien’s presence. “A scarf isn’t enough,” she countered, pursing her lips.

“Oh, for god’s sake!” Chloe threw up her hands in the air, standing up and jabbing a finger at Marinette’s chest. The position was fairly familiar: in the past, she’d done so to mock the girl. Now, though…

“You saved my life, okay? If anything, I should be repaying you.”  _...and, going by the same logic, I would have made Ladybug and Chat Noir millionaires considering the amount of times they saved me. _ The thought, although sarcastic, had the gears in her head turning. She...probably  _ should _ repay the superhero duo somehow for their constant help.

“What happened?”

To her ever-mounting surprise, Chloe turned around to face the questioner. Nathanael — sassy but  _ shy _ Nathanael — was actively participating in a conversation without her meddling. The redhead offered her an arched eyebrow and somewhat pinched frown: it reminded her of the afternoons when they’d pour over her photos together.

In all honesty, Chloe...missed those times: art rants, somewhat philosophical debates, and all. Even if there wasn’t a project she had to work on anymore, they were...friends, right? She could still invite him out to a cafe sometime.

“Chlo nearly got killed by an akuma. Again.”

Marinette blinked, tilting her head at Adrien. “How do you know that?”

Adrien’s expression looked like a deer in headlights. Then, he shrugged and quickly replied (a tad bit  _ too _ quickly), “I saw Chloe and Chat Noir heading off somewhere with an angry akuma after them. Knowing her mouth…” he trailed off, shooting her a teasing grin.

“Okay, so maybe I’m a  _ bit _ confrontational,” Chloe admitted grudgingly, sniffing. Behind them, one of their classmates muttered, “a  _ bit?” _

“I can’t believe I missed  _ another _ akuma,” Alya moaned, suddenly joining the conversation; she had entered the classroom a few seconds prior. “Seriously, they always pop up when I’m not around. You’ve  _ got _ to get me some of their shots sometime, o’ akuma bait and master photographer.”

Chloe rolled her eyes at the epithet. “Will do.”

* * *

“Adrien.”

“Chloe?” he replied, confusion clearly visible on his features. “Why so serious?”

“I want you to duel me,” she informed him, plain and simple. “Everyday after Monsieur D’Argencourt calls the end of practice. Duel me.”

Adrien considered the notion carefully. “Don’t we already?”

“Let me rephrase that: duel me  _ seriously,”  _ Chloe insisted. “Don’t you dare go easy on me just because I’m still learning.”

“Ah, it’s for the fencing tournament coming up, right?” Adrien realized. “Don’t worry about it too much; I’ve seen you practice. You’ll do really well.”

“He’s entering me in  _ intermediate!”  _ she hissed, flailing her arms wildly in the air. Her dramatic movements caught the attention of several Parisians, but they were tactful enough to steer clear of the Bourgeois. “I can do novice, but  _ intermediate?  _ Who does he think I am? I’ve literally been fencing for the past month or two — that’s  _ all!” _

“You’ll do fine, Chloe!” Adrien reassured her, shooting her a grin. “That just means that Monsieur D’Argencourt thinks you’re ready for intermediate. It’s always better to challenge yourself—”

“But I’m going to _ lose,”  _ Chloe moaned. “Aren’t you supposed to give your students a little ego-boost at first before throwing them into the wilderness?”

“He probably thought you didn’t need one.”

Chloe gasped in mock indignation, slapping his arm.  _ “Adrikins! _ Are you calling me egoistical?”

“Maybe a bit,” Adrien conceded. “You can get awfully overconfident sometimes, Chlo.”

“Well,” Chloe sniffed, returning his grin with a smirk of her own. “I’m glad you’ve caught on to my personality, then.”

* * *

 

“Hey, tomato-head, is your Sunday free?”

“I...yeah? What’s this about?”

“Good. You’re meeting Sabrina and I at the museum.”

“I am?”

“Do you want to see their new contemporary art collection or not?”

“I mean, I  _ could _ go see it on my own—”

“Don’t  _ sass _ me, tomato-head.” Cue the Bourgeois hariflip. “I make everything a hundred times more interesting.”

“...that you do, Chloe.”

“I  _ saw _ that look!”

* * *

 

“Dude.  _ Dude,  _ is that Chloe and  _ Nathanael _  walking together? ”

“Sabrina’s there, too.”

“Bro, Adrien! You’re not getting the point...this is  _ Nathanael,  _ the guy who literally secludes himself from the world to draw all day. And he’s with  _ Chloe  _ of all people!”

“They seem happy.”

“She’s scowling at him!”

“It’s a sign of affection.”

“...Alya, come on, back me up.”

“Busy taking a pic, Nino.”

_ “Alya.” _

“What? Girl, you can’t expect me to see this and  _ not _ take a pic.”

“Dude, send me a copy.”

“Nino!”

“Aw, come on, Mari! Live a little.”

“You two are  _ impossible.” _

“...send me one too, Alya.”

“Adrien?!?”

“Will do!”

* * *

“I’m telling you, this was a  _ mistake.” _

“I thought you got over your fear of contemporary art after the presentation, tomato-head.”

“That’s  _ different.  _ This— this isn’t  _ art,  _ it’s a bunch of paint splattered on a canvas with no direction! It’s  _ trash.” _

“Nathanael, you know that Chloe’s father bought a copy of this for his hotel lobby, right?”

“..oh.”

“...”

“...”

“It’s...very... _ nice... _ trash?”

“...just stick to the classical artist ranting.”

* * *

 

_ BOOM. _

* * *

 

“I, uh, gotta run to a photoshoot. On the opposite side of Paris. See ya.”

“I’m, uh, going to run to the bathroom! See you, Alya, Nino.”

“...”

“...dude, should we be concerned that they’re running off during an akuma attack?”

“Mari can handle herself. Same with Adrien. Now…”

“...we’re going to evacuate,  _ right?” _

_ “Please.  _ It’s my first time in  _ forever _ being close enough to an akuma attack to film it. I’m not going to miss this: my Ladyblog fans will kill me!”

* * *

 

“Um...Chloe? Was that a boom?”

“I think that was a boom.”

“...”

_ “Fuck.” _

* * *

 

“Hey, Miss Bourgeois!”

Chloe raised her hands up defensively, giving Chat a defiant look. “I had  _ nothing _ to do with this one. Seriously. No idea, no bad deeds,  _ nada. _ I think he’s one of the contemporary artists whose work was ridiculed.”

Nathanael and Sabrina were silent, probably starstruck by the proximity of the leather-clad hero. Chloe would’ve spent a moment to order them away, but something neon pink struck at them; she ducked out of the way at the last second as Chat attempted to lunge at her companions to push them down. Although Nathanael and Chat were sent tumbling to the ground, her female redhead friend wasn’t so lucky.

Where Sabrina once stood was a modern-esque painting of scarlet, mauve, and emerald triangles. Chloe stared at the painting, transfixed for a moment, then realized with horror that the triangles  _ were _ Sabrina. This was like that one photographer akuma except a thousand times worse.

“Chloe!” Chat’s voice drew her out of her stupor. “Take Nathanael and run away.”

_ Like hell I will,  _ Chloe almost barked back, but she stopped herself. Right now, she and Nathanael were nothing more than dead weight to the superhero: without their presence, he could fight without inhibition out of fear of hurting them. “Alright,” she said instead, surprising not only Chat and Nathanael but also herself. “Let’s go, tomato-head.”

She helped the redhead to his feet as Chat pulled off a stunning combo of acrobatics to draw away the akuma, who looked like a stack of circles and triangles in all honesty. “Where would his akuma be hiding?” Chloe muttered to herself as she and Nathanael fled from the scene. Her mind was running through possibilities. “He didn’t even have appendages, much less something like a paintbrush.”

Nathanael winced, obviously reminded of his former akuma form. “If they don’t figure things out...Sabrina…”

“They’ll figure things out,” Chloe countered firmly, grabbing his arm and dragging him through another corridor littered with people-turned-paintings. “Damn, he must’ve turned at least half of the museum visitors into paintings. That’s scarily impressive…”

They could still hear fighting from where they left Chat and the akuma. Chloe hoped that Ladybug would arrive on the scene soon: she wasn’t sure if Chat could dodge all of the akumas attacks.  _ But if they don’t figure out where the akuma is… _

_ Have faith in them. _

_ Trust in their abilities. _

_ Don’t run away again. _

_ If you can help people, then help them. _

The simple phrase echoed in her head and Chloe almost skidded to a stop in shock. How long had it been since she had thought of her mother’s favorite saying? The answer was  _ much too long:  _ she tried to push away any memories of her because they hurt too much. “Say, Nath,” she said suddenly, the nickname startling him. “Something feels off…”

“What is it?” Nathanael glanced back at the end of the corridor. He realized the aberration quickly. “It’s silent…”

Indeed, his observation was true. Although there had been the sound of fighting before, now it was ominously, eerily silent in the museum that was usually full of people. Standing in the middle of a corridor of people-turned-paintings hardly alleviated her unease.

“I’m heading back,” Chloe declared. “There has to be  _ some _ place where the akuma is hiding and I’m going to find it.”

“Why don’t we head upstairs?” Nathanael suggested, tugging her arm and pointing at the stairs. “It sounded like they were heading into the courtyard before, so we can observe from up there. It might be more helpful...and less dangerous.”

_ “I’m _ going to go upstairs,” Chloe agreed.  _ “You’re _ going to get out of here.”

“I’m an artist.”

“...so?”

“I can see things that you can’t,” Nathanael answered, shrugging. “Come on, we’re wasting time.”

The...the  _ nerve _ of this guy, to order her around! Chloe sent him a scowl as the redhead pulled her towards the staircase. They practically  _ flew _ up the stairs in their haste, rushing to the railing to observe the battle. Ladybug was easy to spot in her scarlet spotted suit, but Chloe  _ couldn’t see Chat anywhere.  _ The akuma had just disappeared somewhere—

“Fuck.”

“Fuck indeed,” a cool voice intoned behind them.

Immediately, both of them whirled around.

“You,” the akuma growled, his glare  _ searing _ and voice filled with hatred. Although fear ran through her veins, Chloe’s eyes caught on a strange triangle shape on the larger circle that represented the akuma’s torso. “You will pay for your words.”

“Hey, buddy, I didn’t do anything—!” Chloe started, but before she could say anything else, she followed the akuma’s gaze and realized he was looking at  _ Nathanael. _

She didn’t even have the time to curse before she twisted her body, pushed Nathanael to the ground, and—

—thought nothing, saw nothing—

_ —became _ nothing.

* * *

 

“Nathanael, you—what?”

“Chloe just got turned into a painting saving _me,_ Sabrina was turned into one _right_ before my eyes, the akuma’s after _me_ and you expect me to _escape?”_ He shook his head, fists clenching. “Ladybug, Chat Noir was turned into one too, right? Let me help you. You can’t do this alone.”

Ladybug glanced almost nervously at where the akuma had disappeared. “Look, I can’t put a civilian in danger. It wouldn’t be right.”

“His akuma’s hiding in the red triangle on his torso. He only seems to appear in parts of the museum where they’re displaying modern art. He also seems to be after  _ me.”  _ Nathanael wanted to bolt, in all honesty, but something inside of him kept his feet firmly placed on museum grounds. “I have an artist’s eye, Ladybug. Let me help you.”

Ladybug studied his expression (for what, he wasn’t quite sure). Then, although still somewhat hesitant, she nodded. “Alright, here’s the plan…”

* * *

 

“Shoot, he figured it out!”

“Nathanael, run!”

“Hey, you! Yeah, the Picasso rip-off! Why don’t you look over here so everyone on the Ladyblog can see your ugly face?”

“Alya…?”

“Ladybug, now!”

“Lucky... _ Charm!” _

* * *

 

“Nice work, my lady!” Chat exclaimed, gracing his partner with a beam. Nathanael turned away from the pair of superheroes, feeling like he was interrupting an intimate moment. When he did, he realized that he was facing a certain Bourgeois: neither of them had gotten the opportunity to talk after the akuma was purified because Chloe had to send Sabrina home to her concerned parents.

It was sort of awkward, honestly. Thankfully, his apprehension didn’t show on his face; if it had, Chloe would’ve pestered him about it for  _ ages. _

“You actually  _ did it.”  _ Chloe looked remarkably impressed as she glanced at Nathanael. He couldn’t tell what the blonde was thinking: ever since she had first picked up her beloved golden camera, the once predictable mean girl had turned into...just another person. Another human.

It was somewhat  _ frightening _ to realize how much he actually  _ enjoyed _ hanging out with Chloe Bourgeois nowadays. Nathanael never would have even  _ considered _ the notion a few months ago before they began working on her pictures together. What he had originally thought would be a chore where he would have to do all of the work quickly became one of his favorite past-times.

Chloe, although painfully blunt sometimes, never  _ blatantly _ lied to him. She told him upfront and honest about whatever she thought. She was also, extremely surprisingly, a good listener when she wanted to be (although she  _ did _ interject little sassy comments every now and then). She  _ had _ invited him to the exhibit Nathanael mentioned a few weeks ago, after all.

“Good job, tomato-head. I guess everyone in the class is getting used to akuma attacks, huh…” Chloe trailed off, her azure eyes flickering with thought. She often did that mid-conversation; the habit had been troublesome at first, but Nathanael had grown accustomed to it.

“Chloe,” he said her name gently but firmly, drawing her out of her thoughts. “Thanks for saving me earlier.”

She looked almost embarrassed for a half-millisecond before her tsundere-ness kicked in. “Yeah, well, whatever. You owe me one,” she mumbled. “Come along with me for an akuma attack sometime or something.”

Although he knew she was being sarcastic, Nathanael gave her a  _ tiny,  _ almost nonexistent wisp of a grin. “Sure, sounds fun.”

She sputtered. “Stop it, idiot! Where did that quiet guy who didn’t sass me go?”

“Never existed,” he quipped.

_ “Ugh.” _

Ever so quietly, he laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thanks for reading! <3 Still more signs of slow progress. On multiple ends, and for multiple characters.
> 
> idk how I'm even going to transition chloe/nathanael into a ship but tHAT'S OKAY; this story is slow-burn redemption already. Might as well make it slow-burn, reaaaally lowkey romance, too. Lol.
> 
> Feel free to drop a review if you have time! I really do appreciate each one :)


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